


Ateb' Men Alezl

by Ariasune



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M, Post-Series, eclipseshipping - Freeform, healthy relationship, it's still basically complicated masturbation, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 15:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2314961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariasune/pseuds/Ariasune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One morning he came back. Not that anybody believed Malik on the point, but that might have been because he neglected to mention it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ateb' Men Alezl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TaraIsEarth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraIsEarth/gifts).



> Title is a rough romanization of the saying أتبع من الظل meaning "Follows More Than a Shadow."
> 
> The image below was drawn for **Ateb' Men Alezl** by the skilled and absolutely lovely [Amarcia](http://amarcia.tumblr.com/post/99328876111/for-ariasune). I consider it an absolute honour to know her and highly recommend her writing, art and blog.
> 
> Please note, this fic takes place in a wonderful au where mosquitos are not a major concern, and for some reason DSM-5 is released well ahead of schedule.
> 
> Prompt was for healthy eclipseship, so I did my best to undertake this task.

[ ](http://amarcia.tumblr.com/post/99328876111/for-ariasune)

* * *

One morning he came back. Not that anybody believed Malik on the point, but that might have been because he neglected to mention it. He remembered the moment clearly; down to the gagging taste of his toothpaste, the tangled mess that was his hair and the ragged look in his eyes staring back at him in the mirror. Then there was another face, hair a worse tangle, but eyes wide, peering curiously at him through the mirror. He practically spat out his toothbrush. Painfully close to punching the mirror in his panic, Malik held his ground instead. Bracing himself on the countertop, he picked up his toothbrush from where it had fallen into the sink, and took a deep breath.

“You missed a spot,” The doppelganger bared his teeth, pointing at them with a too enthusiastic smile, “Just there.”

Malik finished brushing his teeth without looking at _him_ again, deciding that this was just a temporary set-back on the path to sanity. He set his toothbrush carefully on the counter, and left the bathroom, hearing his darker personality springing after his footsteps as he did so.

* * *

Telling his siblings would have resulted in undue alarm, Malik thought, but at the least, it seemed appropriate to bring it up with his therapist. However, sitting curled into himself, hunched over, his knees angled inwards and hands placed in his lap, Malik found he couldn’t meet anybody’s eyes. His other Side's eyes were impossible, of course, and looking at his therapist was like a weight settling on his back and pinning him down face-first. He could have done it, but his neck felt brittle enough to snap trying. Instead he looked down at his hands, wishing the experience was more than a little out of body and a little less grounded in his skin.

“Is he in the room with us…right now?” His therapist sounded like they were chewing the nib of the pen, teeth clacking over the plastic and lips making a horrific sucking sound before they spoke. Malik hated that habit; it made him want to snap the wretched pen in half.

“You pay them for this?” The hallucination was sprawled out across the other side of the couch, one arm hooked over the back of the chair and the other propping his chin up. All in all a lazy, casual pose, possessive of space and territorial about its existence; Malik ignored it, “Grab the pen.”

He lunged-

Malik stopped himself, hand half-extended, and without thinking about it, he looked angrily at his other side. A pleased, gleaming smile greeted him, and he whipped his head away, joints hissing at the unexpected movement.

“No, he’s obviously not real,” He stated coldly, still staring fixedly into the wall.

“Mean,” His other self muttered, and Malik gritted his teeth.

“Nevertheless, this is obviously concerning you," The grind of his teeth transmuted into a steady headache beating at his brow. His skull could have cracked open for the frustration thudding at his head.

"Oi," The illusion shifted about on the couch, voice lax with disbelief, “Do you seriously pay them to tell you that?”

 _Well, not anymore_ , he thought furiously.

“Oh good,” The other Malik yawned, stretching his legs out, “Wake me up when we have to go,” Out of the corner of his eye, Malik saw the murderous beast of Battle City tuck his legs onto the couch, and wriggle until he was apparently comfortable. A coiled ball of pain and violence, half-dozing by him. Malik inched slightly further into his side of the chair, until the distance between them allowed him to at least act like only one of them existed.

* * *

The other Malik wasn’t always there, but it wasn’t as though he was always gone either- Malik would see him at the edges of his vision, face often impassive, and studying people a little too intently. It should have been easy to ignore, but to see himself – or some projection of himself – inches from Rishid’s unsuspecting face, engaged in some staring contest? That was too much.

He meant to ignore it.

He tried to ignore it.

He left the room, responding as calmly as he could to Rishid's inquiring stare, "Just going for a drive," Malik scooped his keys up, metal making a tangled sound in his fingertips, "Need to clear my head of some old sand," Rishid's concerned frown trembled with a faint smile at their joke. It was a gentle code, generous in reassurance, but steeped with the past, but at least it would let Rishid know that nothing was wrong, nothing really- just some old ghosts bubbling up from history.

Perhaps a little too literally.

"Drive safe, _habibi_ ," Rishid called after Malik, who turned his head just enough to shoo Rishid's concern away. When he looked back, the hallucination stood in his path, expression fierce and body a sharp akimbo line.

“I’m not an it,” Rarely, did the hallucination address Malik directly, instead choosing to amuse himself or at least preoccupy himself. Here though, he stood directly before Malik, demanding to be addressed, even acknowledged. Malik had to force himself to continue walking straight through the illusion, which spun round after him, voice snapping out like a flash-flare, “Oi, oi! Get back here!”

Malik ignored the voice, settling to his knees to slip his fingers into the guts of his motorbike. She was infamously known as a _kawasaki knock-off_ and even now, Malik still felt new life listening to her snarl eagerly. Beautiful handling too, but he was too inclined to the gas on her, probably get him in an accident one day, that and she needed a service, "Sorry old girl, can't ride you today; I'm taking 'Shizu's beamer out whilst you get better," His sister had never once driven the motorbike Malik fixed for her; they had a tacit agreement to sell them once they're ready. Exceptions, of course, apply if and when Malik took a fancy to each bike.

"So you'll talk to a bike but not to me?" The voice demanded, steel-toned. Malik ignored him. Pulling his fingers out of the bike's machinery, he wiped the grease out onto his leathers, and pulled on his gloves. As he hitched the bike up, the voice piped up once more, "Real mature, Dominant Self."

Honestly, he was pretty good at ignoring it, but sometimes, he couldn’t help but see the vision, track it with his eyes. The strangest part was that voice, though; even when Malik didn't look at it, he could hear it. It sounded like him, well, him if he was trying to sound like he’d been gargling shadows – he thought he could hear a chuckle – achingly familiar. He reacted easily to the sound of his own voice, naturally to suggestions put to him in it. Not that he was worried he'd ever do anything about it. Wasn't like you'd listen to the jerk in your head, it was just–

“Left!” It was screamed at him, the hallucination flashing in front of him, eyes wide and mouth splayed in a snarl.

Malik would have probably jerked the handlebars if _anyone_ had yelled that, he was driving after-all, but to hear his own voice? He’d turned left before he understood what the hell left was, engine yowling under him as he was sent skidding along the road. The ground was hot, burning under his gloves, and Malik could see a clean slice of his helmet lying off to the side. He must have sat up, but he couldn't remember it, dazedly staring at his bike. Bruised, sore, and bloodied, Malik looked at the twisted metal of Isis’ bike, deformed like a dislocated bone run through with barbed wire. Ruined. He'd written off his sister's bike.

A noise hit Malik, more physical than sound, and he watched mutely, as three cars clawed through each other ahead of him.

“Hah!” Malik’s head turned without thinking, looking at his other Self turning this way and that in the middle of the road. The Dark Personality bounded back and forth, leaping in front of the cars just in time for them to intersect through his translucent torso.

Malik watched, held in place by the sight, until the other Malik skirled about in a swish of his cloak to grin maniacally at him. A police car wheeled through him, and their gazes held.

* * *

“Are you real?” Malik asked, sitting in the middle of his bed, voice hushed and the sound fell about him with a weighty quiet. It wouldn't do to alarm his siblings, he didn't want to be the cause of anymore of anything. He didn't want to be a problem, slipping and sliding through episodes and problems and therapists. He didn't want to deal with their worrying, or their worse than worrying, it wasn't like he was going to be making small-talk and murdering from being told to-

"Pity," The other Malik snorted, “Real. Hm," He didn't seem very interested in the question, not entirely invested in the answer, or that Malik had asked him it at all, "If I wasn’t, well, would I admit it?” The other Malik had his hands held behind his back, peering curiously at the bookshelf in Malik’s room. For all the word he looked birdlike, surprisingly delicate and if not vulnerable, flighty and detached. Malik looked down at his hands, bandaged and still a stinging red.

“Would you even know it?” Malik asked finally.

This made his other Side turn, and their eyes met again, holding fast. Without missing a beat, his other Side replied, “Would you?”

With that, the other Personality turned back to the books, skimming his hand through their spines. Fingers tracing delicately over vertebrae of bind and leather, whilst Malik looked back down at his gauze-wrapped hands. He clenched his fingers, unable to feel his own grip, his own body muffled with bandaging, “Thank you for saving me.”

“You’ve never bothered to say that before,” Malik looked up to find his other Self side-eying him. Upon noticing Malik’s attention, the other Side huffed under his breath, vanishing in a flutter of movement. He half-expected something in the room to flicker in a low-wind, but nothing moved, except Malik as he fell back onto the bed, the brief fall catching him in his sheets. The ceiling held over him, and he shut his eyes with a sight, the meaning of his other Self's words darting somewhere in his skull and settling into his bones.

* * *

Malik didn’t see _him_ again for almost two months, and doubt waned into the tired certainty he was once more floundering through his recovery. This feeling snapped cleanly in two when he heard his own voice behind him one morning, “You’ll burn this,” He spun about, almost tumbling to the floor and watched as the Other Malik peered into the pot bubbling on the stove. Too surprised to do much else, Malik reached through the other Malik's chest to turn the stove down.

“You just about made me jump out of my skin,” He commented ruefully, as they both watched his arm retract through the other Side’s translucent body.

“Don’t I wish,” His other Side cocked his head, “You’re welcome.”

“Oh,” Malik glanced furtively at the door, fully-aware Rishid could be due home at any moment, “I guess I owe you my life now.”

“Huh? I meant dinner.”

All Malik could do was blink at that, and the other Malik walked past him, stride elegant and unconcerned. He seemed oddly preoccupied with the disarray of spices set out on the countertop, studying them with a knife-like focus, and unwavering blank expression.

"Are you going to take over me?" Malik asked, moving to brush the door closed, pressing his body back against it, listening to it click with finality. He fingered an earring nervously, before crossing his arms over his chest. After a minute, nervous silence gave way to bolder irritation, the emotion flowering through Malik's chest and into his lungs, "I said, are you going to take over? Is that what you want?"

"Those are two different questions," The other Side sounded almost petulant, still looking at a nearly empty jar of saffron.

"You've answered neither."

The other Malik straightened, looking back over his shoulder at Malik. Once more something held tight in their eye-contact, and a bright - burning, deranged - grin set itself across the other Malik's features, "Oh I want to, don't mistake me, I just can't."

Malik nodded, "But could you - one day."

"Hmph," The other Malik rolled his eyes, grin fading to a dull, tight line, "I haven't changed - You have. If you don't want me in the skin, I can't take it anymore," He looked back towards the spices, "This is just how it's going to be for you and me," A moment passed and he bared his teeth furiously at Malik, "Why don't you believe me?"

Malik felt his mouth dry, and he pressed further into the door, "You appeared _now -_ years later? You're clearly changing if you just came back like that," He pressed his palm to his forehead, brushing his hair away from his forehead, " _Fuck_ , I need to tell Rishid," Not Isis. Of course Isis, just-

"Not first," His other Side answered, turning back to him and clicking his tongue ruefully, "I did _not_ just appear; I've been here since-" He thought for a moment, "When the bastard Pharaoh walked into his Afterlife and his Penalty was lifted. Since then."

Malik moved off the door, staring the other Malik down, "That was _years_ ago-" He protested.

"Well I didn't want to _talk to you_ ," The other Malik hissed, "You _killed_ me."

"You tried to-" Malik's voice was raised, and it was only the startled expression on the other Malik's face. The way his head raised like a cat caught in headlights, pupils constricting- Malik cut off, and heard the bang of the door as Rishid closed the door to their home.

* * *

Malik was half-caught in his shirt, when the other Malik edged into his vision, and he scowled, "Get out."

His other Side shrugged, and Malik noted the cloak is nowhere in-sight, just exposed shoulders. The fact they dressed nothing alike was soothing to Malik, except that the other Malik has only ever been in his gear from Battle City. Everything an awful familiarity. The cloak was a whip of memory, striking over his mind, no matter how the other Malik wears it.

"I said get out," Malik yanked his shirt back down, fiddling with the hem and glowering at his other side, who sat down cross-legged on the floor, seemingly unconcerned by the rudeness of his gesture, that or just comfortable with Malik. He had no shoes on either.

It was almost casual - seeing socks and shoulders.

It felt mostly insulting.

"Well, you're not doing anything particularly special," His other Side put in, resting his hands in his lap. He looked like some kind of odd cat. An unfixed one at that, given the ferocious smirk on his face. It was strangely expressive and Malik shook his head, frowning.

"I'm in the bathroom."

"That's why I came back," His other Side didn't seem to have got the idea of it at all.

"I'm trying to have a bath."

"I know," His other Side had the idea completely; he's just an asshole.

Malik shifted foot to foot, whilst his other side vaguely studies the bathmat, running his fingers along it with an abruptly pensive expression.

"I would like some privacy."

"Well, we're alone," His other Side continued to stroke at the bathmat, "Go ahead."

Malik folded his arms across his chest, "You're here."

There was a low chuckle from the other Malik, who looked up at him with needle-point eyes, "I don't count," Malik opened his mouth to object, but the other Malik turned his attention back to the threadbare mat, "I never counted before," Something in his tone had Malik sighing and grasping the hem of his shirt again.

"Okay, but don't look," Malik gazed off to the side, studying the wall as he shucked his shirt over his head.

Shuffling about, the Other Malik turned his back to Malik, translucent hand still grasping along the bath rug, "Looking away doesn't actually do anything, besides, I've seen our body."

Malik kicked out of his trousers, adding his underwear to the loose puddle of clothing, and looked down at the other Malik with a curt frown, "You're missing the point."

With that he stepped gingerly into the bath, wincing at the change in temperature. He considered withdrawing, toes wriggling, but then there was the other Malik who had wriggled backwards to lean against the side of the bathroom, head still bent over. He slid into the water carefully, movements rigid, and then hooked both arms at the side of the bath. Something shifted in the other Side's back, and Malik slipped a few centimetres away from him.

"Did you really not talk to me because I surrendered?" Malik asked.

Once more, something moved in the other Malik's back, stiffening in reaction, "Of course - you _killed_ me."

Malik moved further away again, water sloshing and the other Malik murmured under his breath. The sound was drowned out, and Malik cocked his head, "Sorry what was that?"

"I said," Testily at that, "I'm not going to kill you, I never tried to do that," The other Malik folded his arms over his chest firmly, "I wasn't going to lose against the Nameless Pharaoh."

"Really," Malik shifted, splashing lightly as he did so, "Cause it seemed like you were losing pretty badly."

Malik's other Side growled, trembling faintly, and when he spoke his voice was dripping with anger, "Well I wasn't going to surrender anyway."

"You still bet on my life," The water jolted as Malik drew himself back, glaring furiously at his other Side, and spat, "You had no _right_ to do that."

"I wasn't trying to get you killed," He sounded almost listless, and Malik lunged forward to throw a hand through his back. It went through him, but the other Malik turned to stare at Malik, "What?"

"You _stole_ my body," Malik hissed, "You tried to kill Rishid, Isis," He leaned forward, hand scratching at the wide eyes staring back at him like a glinting mirror, "You killed my father."

The other Malik was on his feet, hands clenched into fists at his side, "So what if I killed the bastard?" He demanded, "He had it coming!"

"You _ruined_ my life!" Malik almost jerked to his feet, but instead simply drew his head up, entire body tensing.

"What life?" The other Malik snapped, "I didn't want every breath I took to be stale," He laughed, head tilting back and entire body concave with the strength of it. Both arms held out in a dramatic gesture, he eyed Malik again, "You should thank me for freeing us! You only have a life because I took one for us."

"And then you _took_ mine," Malik snarled, remembering the feeling of control being torn out from under his fingertips, one nerve at a time. Before he knew it, he was on his feet, naked and dripping in the middle of the bath. He could see the splatter of water on the floor, "You stole my body, ruined my life, tortured me- I suppose I should fucking thank you for that too, right?" His other Side was staring at him, gaze locked, and pupils spilt wide, like a murky puddle of oil in the delicate lilac. It was like some stopper in Malik's veins had been pulled loose, and he could feel the rage sluggishly draining. The other Malik was still staring at him, expression oddly weak, "Thank you," Malik finished bitterly, slowly sinking back down into the water, and turning away from his other side.

He expected something - perhaps to be stripped mind from body again, or at least for his other Side to tower over him with fury laced across his features - but nothing happened. Finally he twisted his head, fancying the other Personality to have fled the room, but he was standing there, face slack and squinting at Malik.

"What?" He grumbled.

His other Personality opened his mouth, face screwing up and quirking his head, however a moment later, his mouth shut.

"Cat got your tongue?" Malik sniped, but his other Side seemed to have fallen mute, or maybe even foolish, and Malik finally shrugged, turning his attention to washing his hair. As he did so, the other Malik eventually dropped to his knees, sidling up to the bath, expression clearing to the familiar mild tone. He watched the approach cautiously from the corner of his eye, reflecting that if his other Self could eventually take his body over, he probably wouldn't have revealed his existence. It was comforting, in an oddly logical way.

"That's interesting," The other Malik commented quietly, resting his head on the side of the bath and staring at Malik. It was disconcerting, and Malik looked towards the wall, colouring, "I upset you-" A pause, as though preparing for some monumental occasion, "Because of something."

Malik turned back to his other Side with a disbelieving, unimpressed expression, but paused, staring into his eyes. As always it send a wave of nausea through Malik; like looking at a mirror you knew wasn't right. This time, he wavered, holding the gaze, "Yes," He answered slowly.

"Huh," The other Malik's gaze dropped first, following the movement of the water with quick-tracking eyes, "I can't think why."

Once again Malik glared in his direction, "Well of course _you_ wouldn't," The other Malik's expression crumpled again, confusion curving his mouth into a frown. As quickly as the confusion had appeared, it vanished, evaporating into a look of awe. Malik narrowed his eyes, suspicion crawling under his skin, "What?"

The wondrous smile that had lit up his other Side's face faded to a sneer, "Not telling," With that his other half, rested both arms on the side of the bath, and leant his head on one. Contently, his eyes slipped shut, and sighing Malik returned to cleaning his hair.

* * *

"I don't want your name anymore," The remark was wet with derision, and Malik felt like disdain had been flicked across his face like spit, "I've decided I'm no longer Malik Ishtar."

Malik rolled over in the dark of his bedroom to see the other Malik - Not-Malik - standing over his bed, arms crossed. He looked triumphant in the dull light, even proud of himself and Malik felt his stomach bottom out with dread, "That's... nice," He ventured after a moment, "Who are you now?"

"Isis Ishtar," The other- -Isis declared, almost dismissive about it.

"What?" Malik sat up slowly, and lightly boxed at his own ears, "Could you just repeat that?"

"My name is Isis Ishtar."

He shook his head in utter disbelief, "You can't be Isis, that's sister's name."

"Well I'm taking it," The other Isis shrugged, and combed his hair away from his face, "So apparently I can."

Malik rubbed at his eyes, still not sure what to make of this development, "No you can't."

"Well I don't want your name," The other Isis pointed out, "And I don't want Rishid's name, so I'll have to be Isis," Malik tilted his head, trying to follow a logic he wasn't sure it was even possible to keep up with, "Well father's dead, so I can't have his name and I don't want it," Malik pinched his arm, making sure he was awake, "And mother's also dead, so as you can see, I have to be Isis."

"Why-" Malik gave his arm another pinch, "Why don't you just come up with your own name?"

"It doesn't work that way."

It was said so patronizingly, Malik could feel himself bristle, nevertheless, he took a grounding breath, "Yes it does," Malik could see the skepticism on the other Isis’ face, and scrubbed at his face, groaning into his palms, "You can have any name you like, I promise."

The skepticism twitched, slipping slightly. The other Isis turned his head, looking at Malik sidelong, "Really?"

"Really really," Malik blinked, still astounded he was having this conversation, even as the other Isis sat down on the edge of Malik's bed, tapping at his mouth in thought. Malik watched him for a moment, before shaking his head again and settling back down.

He had been hovering at the edge of sleep once more, when the other Isis spoke up enthusiastically, "Alezl."

"What?" Malik flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, "You can't be Alezl."

"Why?" Alezl growled, "What's wrong with it this time?"

Malik pressed a hand to his forehead, almost laughing from what he suspected was a dangerous exposure to the absurd, "It means Shadow, you can't be called Shadow."

"Why the hell not?" Alezl demanded incredulously. Everything about him gave off an obvious stink of being violently offended, "It's true!"

"It's not a name-"

"Now it is," Alezl insisted, "It's my name."

"That-" Malik squeezed his eyes shut, "You know what, sure, your name is Alezl. From now on, you are Alezl. Alezl is a fantastic name. Goodnight Alezl."

Alezl made a pleased huff, "It is a good name isn't it?"

"Goodnight Alezl."

* * *

Despite all evidence to the contrary, last night turned out to have been very real, and not a dream in the slightest. Alezl - Shadow, of all things - had greeted Malik very conspicuously by name, and then stared insistently until Malik mumbled out, "Good morning Alezl," across the table. Rishid had been slowly bringing the coffee to consistency, when he turned from the stovetop to raise an eyebrow at Malik. Flushing, Malik looked down at the table, "Sorry, joke."

"It's funny," Rishid assured Malik, who between glancing to make sure Rishid was looking back at the stove, then shot a glare at Alezl.

There was a crash from down the hallway, and Malik laughed under his breath, "That'll be 'Shizu," A door cracked back against the wall, "Late again sis?"

Isis bounded into the kitchen, kissing Rishid's cheek as she grabbed her coffee. She tossed it back in a single gulp, and wrinkled her nose, setting her cup aside, "Bit sweet today Rishid," Malik pushed a plate of ful along the table, and Rishid steered Isis into her spot next to Malik. He ducked his head, and felt Isis ruffling his hair, before she kissed him lightly on the forehead, "Morning Malik."

"Morning," He replied, returning to his own plate of ful with a chuckle, but across the table, he caught Alezl watching them quietly. Malik swallowed, clearing his throat and lowered his head. Focusing on his food, Malik was surprised to feel Isis tap at his shoulder, and he turned to see her standing up, peering at him.

"Malik were you listening?"

"Yes," He answered automatically, and then shrugged sheepishly, "What was that?"

"We're expecting the nishikigoi-"

Whatever Isis had been saying was cut off when Alezl slammed his fist into the palm of his hand, all but yelling, "Rishid too!" Malik jumped in his seat, unable to stop his head jerking to look in Alezl's direction.

"Sorry," Malik scrambled to grab Isis’ sleeve, "Can you say that again?"

"Rishid is like me," Alezl insisted, and Malik had to strain to make-out that Isis was expecting a gift to arrive from Kaiba Corporation later that day.

"Don't worry I'll be home," Malik promised, even as Alezl got to each feet, pacing through the kitchen.

"So is Isis," And with that, Alezl had stalked down the corridor, leaving Malik to fight to not look to see where he had gone. Only when Rishid had left for the day several hours later, did Malik have an opportunity to search the house for Alezl, however wherever Alezl had gone, it was beyond Malik's ability to find him. Finally, Malik settled onto the couch, flicking the television on idly.

* * *

He woke to Alezl crouched by the couch, and simply rolled onto his front at the sight of a cat-like smile on Alezl's face. Undaunted, Alezl combed his fingers through Malik's side, "Oi oi, Malik," Alezl tossed his head, earrings jangling as he did so, "There's someone coming," And with that, Malik heard a firm rapping. Rolling off the couch, and through Alezl, who drew his breath in like a hiss, Malik scrambled to his feet and hurried to the door. Opening it revealed a rather officious looking worker, who Alezl pulled faces at, as the stranger demanded to know where the intended container was.

Several puzzling minutes later, Malik led the visitor into the garden, where he began to inspect the pond.

"Less scummy than I remember," Alezl reported, staring into the muddy water with his usual cold expression.Malik pointedly ignored him, as the guest seemed far more pleased by the pond than Malik thought anybody should be. Something about ideal temperatures, overhangs and depths. With that, Malik retired to perch on a bench as far away as possible, watching several Kaiba Corp Employees set about moving a series of vividly patterned fish into the pond.

"Seems like a lot of work for a bunch of fish," Alezl remarked, tilting his head to study the movements of the workers. At some point, he had slowly wandered away from the pond, coming to sit next to Malik on the bench, "All this coming and going."

"They're very expensive fish apparently," Malik replied quietly, shrugging with one arm.

The sound Alezl made was unimpressed, and they watched in silence as the first visitor rechecked the pond. At first, Malik followed the coming and goings with a dwindling interest, before his attention slowly shifted, moving to the impassive Alezl at his side. Shifting slightly further from Alezl, Malik turned to look at him.

"What did you mean Rishid was like you?" Malik inquired curiously, and Alezl rested his chin in his hands, not even looking at Malik, "Alezl-" Alezl's head turned, and once more their gazes clashed uncomfortably, "Alezl, what did you mean when you said Rishid was like you?"

"Oh," Alezl twisted his head back to continue staring at the men bringing the fish in, "Just that Rishid and Isis are like us."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"They have their own sense of the world," Alezl offered, "I never thought of other people that way before."

Malik raised his eyebrows, "Well that would explain a lot," He toyed with the edge of the bench, "Just us?"

"Just me," Alezl brought a leg up onto the bench, hugging it pensively, "It explains a lot."

"Does it-" Malik cleared his throat, hand flying to brush at the hard feeling tightening there, "Does it change anything?"

Curling slightly, Alezl pressed his forehead to his leg and growled, "I think it changes me," Malik frowned, _that wasn't what he'd meant_ , and Alezl's fingers wound in his hair, pulling slightly, "I don't know."

There was an unmistakable feeling that Malik shouldn't press further, but stronger than that was the feeling he and Alezl were pushing at something fundamental, so Malik gathered himself, "Do you think-" Alezl had released his hold on his own hair, hands pressing loosely at the back of his head and neck, but now his fingers tensed into rigid hooks, "What do you think I should eat for lunch?" Malik finished.

Alezl's fingers relaxed, and Malik caught a sliver of Alezl's eyes, watching him cautiously, "...Mihallabiya?"

"If you like," Malik shrugged, considering the contents of the pantry, "I don't make it near so well as Rishid."

A chuckle arose from Alezl, making his shoulders shudder, "I know."

* * *

Alezl leant against the counter, arms folded over his chest, and cloak slung over a chair. Despite his disinterested expression, he continued to stare at Malik as he cooked, and Malik glanced at him between stirs. Alezl didn't appear to notice, rigid and unmoving, and Malik lowered his eyes to the stove, reaching out to pull the pot off the heat element.

"Drop it," Alezl snapped, voice hard and Malik's fingers twitched, resisting. A moment later, Malik dropped the pot with a clunk onto the stove, hissing in pain, and Alezl stalked forward to look at the bright burn on Malik's fingertips, "I told you to drop it," He growled, voice low.

"Well, I'm sorry," Malik snapped, grabbing a tea towel and pulling the pot away.

"Water," Alezl trailed after Malik, eyes narrowing.

Settling the pot, Malik checked its consistency, flicking the stove off.

Alezl cleared his throat, "I said water."

"I will," Malik rolled his eyes in irritation, "Give me a minute."

"It hurts," Alezl was baring his teeth, pupils thin, "Water now."

He continued to ignore Alezl, finishing the food, before finally approaching the sink. Jerking the tap on with his elbow, Malik thrust his hand under the burst of cool water and sighed into the soothing feeling spreading through his hand.

"I _told_ you," Alezl grimaced and Malik eyed Alezl, frowning petulantly. They rolled their eyes, at each other and away from each other, as Alezl looked into the finished mihallabiya, "It looks good," Malik sighed, looking at the free-flowing tap, and turning his fingers over in the stream of water, "Stay," Alezl added, not even looking at Malik.

Malik paused, hand only half in the water, and relaxed his position by the sink, "Alright."

By the time they'd both sat down at the table, Malik holding the spoon in his uninjured hand, the pudding had become gluggy, and unappetising to look at. Despite this, Alezl had stretched himself over the table, arms splayed out, looking up at Malik with widened eyes, and a bright expression, "Eat, let's eat," He purred.

Wrinkling his nose, Malik licked at the spoon, "Eugh."

"More," Alezl insisted, smile turning into an unpleasant scowl.

"Do I have to?" Malik poked at the bowl.

"More," Alezl reached forward, as though to push the spoon towards Malik's face, and he veered back from the searching fingertips, "Malik, _more_."

Twitching with distaste, Malik swallowed another spoonful of the mihallabiya, and scooped up even more, at Alezl's anxious expression.

"Rishid's is better," Alezl admitted, head lolling on the table with a low laugh, "Finish all of it please."

Malik toyed with another spoonful, "Rishid's is a lot better; you should be the one eating this stuff."

Alezl perked up at that, straightening and staring up at Malik, "Really?" Almost as soon as Alezl had shifted, his face fell, "Oh," He flopped back down, looking off to the side, with a cold look in his eyes, "Whatever."

* * *

Malik shooed the workers out the front door, throwing thanks after them, and assurances he'd contact Kaiba to let him know how Isis had received the gift. Not for the last time, he wondered at the purpose of the gift, wryly considering the business relationship between his sister and Seto. Shutting the door, he leaned back against it with a relieved sigh, and glanced at the pile of food and books they had left by the door. Absently, he picked one of the books up, scanning the front - it had been awhile since he'd read Japanese and he squinted at the characters. They scurried under his gaze like an avant-garde parade of insects, each one more unlikely than the next.

Still deciphering the text, Malik made his way back to the pond, where Alezl was stretched out by the pond, one arm dangling over the water like a particularly ambitious cat. There was a sudden movement from Alezl, but no sound of the water splashing as Alezl caught at the fish, fingertips sliding through their bodies.

"You won't catch any, I hope you know that," Malik knelt next to Alezl, book still splayed open in his hands.

"Hm," Alezl didn't seem perturbed, still grabbing after the koi, and Malik returned to his book, "What are their names?"

"Names?" Malik peered at the fish, "I don't think they'd have any."

"Ah," Alezl returned to his game, leaving Malik to his book. He'd just begun to get back into the feel of the kanji when Alezl spoke up again, "Can I name them?"

"Uh," Malik considered the question, twisting it about in his head, "Well they belong to Isis so-"

"She wouldn't say no to you," Alezl stated, voice taking on a strange, proud air, "She'd die for you," Each word was relished, and when Malik looked down at the pond, he could see a ferocious grin on Alezl's face reflected in the water. Shuddering at the violent expression, Malik focused on his book again, and Alezl growled, "Well?"

Finally he replied, flipping a page in his book, "I suppose?"

Alezl skimmed a finger through the water, pointing at a dark coloured koi with white flecks patterned on its scales, "Good because that one is Alelyel."

Squinting, Malik set his book down, "...Night?"

"It's dark like a night sky," Alezl stated, "And has little white stars in it," Malik inclined his head, and Alezl stared back into the water, "Also the one with the spot on its head should be Rayh," Malik looked into the water and Alezl pointed out a white fish with a large red splotch on its head; the whole thing looked rather like the Japanese flag.

"...Flag," Malik translated for good measure, "How... creative."

Alezl's creativity did not improve, finally producing the names;

  * Alelyel (night, named for its colouration)
  * Rayh (flag, named its colouration)
  * Selhefah (turtle named for its colouration)
  * Mesherq (bright, named for its colouration)
  * Berteqaley (orange, named for its colouration)
  * Resdet (spotted, named for its colouration)
  * Qetam (gloom, named for its colouration)



As well as, Memlh (boring, named presumably for being a fish) and Alasemak (fish, definitely named for being a fish).

The entire process had been thoroughly disarming, Malik becoming more incredulous with each firmly stated name. As Alezl finished naming Resdet, he watched the entire shoal for a few moments more, before shuffling away from the pond and looking at Malik's book. Malik had long abandoned it, instead staring at Alezl in bafflement.

"What?" Alezl looked up from the book, narrowing his eyes at Malik.

"I'm starting to see why you called yourself Alezl," Malik mumbled, and adjusted the book to give Alezl a better view.

* * *

Malik had just settled in to sleep, when Alezl had collapsed in besides him, legs tangling through Malik's. His eyes snapped open and Alezl yawned toothily, before settling, half-curled on his side, "What are you doing?" Malik finally asked Alezl.

"I was going to sleep," Alezl's eyes opened to half-mast, eying Malik with those unpleasantly familiar eyes, "I'm tired."

"This is my bed," Malik protested, "Besides, why don't you _fall_ through the bed."

Alezl shut his eyes, squeezing them closed and wriggling into position, "Why don't I fall through the floor," He snorted, "Where do you want me to sleep? On that floor like a dog?"

"Go sleep-" Malik spluttered, "Go sleep wherever you go when you disappear."

At that, Alezl's eyes opened again, dull in the darkness of the room, "I can't feel anything anymore when I do that," The words came out quietly, a slow reel of confession, delicate with fear, and Alezl rolled to face away from Malik, "I won't take up any space."

Malik had leant up, resting his head on his elbow as he considered the back of Alezl's head, "What do you mean?" He asked, nudging a hand. It passed through Alezl's shoulderblades, and Malik withdrew it sharply. Alezl didn't move, but his body was too stiff to be asleep, and Malik tried again, "Alezl?"

"I told you," Alezl's voice was strained, "When I disappear, I can't feel things anymore," He squirmed, curling further into himself and away from Malik, "Why do you think I talk to you when you killed me."

An ugly feeling erupted in Malik's chest, and he withdrew from it, focusing on the issue at hand, "Did you used to feel things?"

"I always felt things," Alezl still sounded tense, curling tighter by slow increment, "Even before Battle City, but it hasn't- lately-" Malik could hear fear rebounding in Alezl's tone, the hunch of his shoulders, and slowly Malik settled his head back down.

Quietly, he whispered, "Why?" He wasn't even sure Alezl knew.

"We're not the same anymore," Alezl was now coiled into a ball, hugging at himself, and Malik bit his lip, _You'll draw blood_.

"I won't," Malik stopped biting his lip, rolling onto his back with a heavy exhale, "I don't think we were ever the same."

Alezl turned over so quickly, Malik reared back, toppling off the bed with a yelp. Alezl leaned over the side, face a sharp twist of anger, "We were connected and now we're not, we're different!" Malik held both hands up, shushing Alezl, who leaned back, laughing hard and painfully, "Your siblings can't hear me! So what if I scream!" And with that Alezl sucked in a heavy breath, drawing his head back ever further in a flash of throat. Then it started, a loud howl that had Malik clambering up on the bed, trying to shove Alezl backwards and cover his mouth.

It was ineffectual and Malik had no choice but to wait for Alezl to tire himself out. As Alezl flopped back on the bed, their bodies half-phased together, Malik grimaced, "That was awful."

"I'm awful," Alezl stated breathlessly, "Goodnight Malik."

* * *

It was strange, Malik decided, waking up half-buried in another person. He rolled away, pulling his face from Alezl's hair and sliding cautiously away from the sleeping projection. However, he had barely quit the bed when Alezl's breath hitched and his eyes fluttered open, chest heaving, "Morning," Malik pulled his shirt over his head, reaching for another shirt hanging off his chair, "Sleep alright."

"Fine," Alezl curled both arms over his head, "Where am I?"

Malik snickered under his breath, straightening the shirt in his hands, "My room-" He took a cautious step towards the bed, "You okay?" Alezl had begun trembling, teeth chattering in a frightened staccato. Eventually, Malik leaned forward, skimming a hand through Alezl's side, "Alezl-"

There was a knock at Malik's door, and he sprang away from the bed, turning as he did so, "Malik?" It was Isis, "Are you decent?"

"Uh," Malik looked between the shaking Alezl and the door, "Give me a minute?"

A long sigh, "I don't have a minute; I have to get going soon, okay?"

Malik arched an eyebrow at Isis’ continuing bad record with time management, hurrying to put his shirt on. He looked back at Alezl nervously, before opening his door and smiling disjointedly at Isis, "Sis?"

She tucked her hands about his ears, bending his head forward to kiss his forehead, "Thank you for moving the fish in yesterday," She looked rueful, brushing a strand of Malik's hair behind his ear, "It's such an extravagant gift from Domino."

"We didn't do much," Malik shrugged, before adjusting the set of his shirt, "I. I didn't do much, the workmen did-"

"It was a huge help to me, especially," Isis’ face was once again hovering between annoyed and collected, "Given the nature of the present. Really quite unusual."

"Are you being diplomatic again?" Malik cocked his head at Isis, smirking as he did so. Behind him, there was a guttural groan that felt like frost in his blood, and though there was no reason he should have sensed it, he swore he could feel Alezl slide their bodies into an overlay. The shock and cold must have shown on his face, because Isis pressed the back of her hand to his head.

"You look a bit faint," Isis pulled her hand away, "Maybe you should lie down?"

Alezl separated from Malik, and Malik realized the tight pressure at his chest was a sudden failure to breathe. He took a heavy breath, leaning against the doorframe, "Y-yeah, maybe..." He watched Alezl straighten, stepping through Isis into the hall, and Malik felt the room's colours swirl against his skin. He shakily backed into his room, flopping into the bed.

"Want me to call Rishid home?" Isis-

Ah, Isis was adjusting his covers. He waved her off, "Just need some sleep," Alezl hovered in by the beside, eyes shockingly round. Malik kept glancing at Alezl's slack expression and he caught Isis staring in wonderment at the edge of the bed, "Just need some sleep," Malik pressed a hand over his eyes, "Later sis."

* * *

Malik woke to Alezl curled next to him, breathing slowly and sweetly into the hollow left between their bodies, "Afternoon," He brushed a hand at Alezl's tangled hair, fingers sweeping through it. Shuddering, Malik pulled his hand away and rolled to face his bedroom door. Beside him, Alezl snorted, sitting up, and yawning with both arms stretched out above his head. Rubbing at his eyes blearily, Alezl tilted his head at Malik.

"Malik?"

He shut his eyes, shifting further away from Alezl, "Mh?"

Tucking his legs up, Alezl curled his arms around them and rested his head against his knees, still looking at Malik, "I- won't do that in future," Malik twisted to look at Alezl, who hadn't moved, still watching him patiently. The familiar jolt of eye-contact caused Malik to shiver and Alezl gazed at the movement, "Walk through you."

Lying back and gazing up at the ceiling, Malik shrugged, mind suddenly cumbersome and slippery in his grasp, "I do it all the time."

Alezl reached with one hand to toy with the sheets, hand phasing through them, "I made you ill," The calm expression turned violent, teeth baring and face hard. It was a familiar expression; dangerous.

"It's okay," Malik shifted under the blankets uncertainly.

"No it's not!" Alezl slammed a fist down on the bed, unwinding to yell at Malik, "I won't stand for it!"

"Well, I don't see why," Malik wriggled up, moving away from Alezl, "Just forget about it," He swung his legs over the side of the bed, "Do as you like," Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Alezl spring after him, hands catching along the sheets. Each movement was drawn-out, but crackling with speed; not long ago he might have shied away from it, but Alezl was a cobweb, barely existing until something moved through him, splicing at the hairs of reality. Therefore, Malik pointedly ignored Alezl, focusing on changing his shirt, which he could touch with his fingers, handle.

"Oi," Alezl snapped.

"Yes?" Malik turned, gazing stoically at Alezl.

"Don't ever say that," Alezl's growl was sibilant, similar to the low hiss Bakura could manage, but more feline, where Bakura's voice had been cold and reptilian, "Or I'll make you suffer."

Snorting, Malik looked him up and down, "How? You're just a ghost."

Drawing back, Alezl's face went still, "I-"

"How do you propose to make me suffer?" Malik laughed, turning away from Alezl, "You can't touch anything, and nobody can hear you; you might as well not exist. I don't have to pay attention to you," Pulling his shirt over his head, Malik shuffled for the door, making his way to the kitchen in search of nourishment. Inside the fridge was a small container of food, and Malik peeled the post-it note from the top, studying Rishid's familiar hand.

 _Please enjoy this for when you wake up, and feel better, habibi_.

Prying the lid off, Malik sniffed appreciatively at the container, the slightly cold smell still sifting through the air, "Mh," Malik flicked the fridge shut behind him with his foot, fetching a fork from a nearby drawer, and retreated to the table to inspect the food. He poked at the rice, sifting through the chickpeas and tahini, eyebrows raising at the easy food, "Honestly, Rishid," Malik chuckled, and set about eating, when he saw Alezl take a nervous seat across him.

"He left a teapot out for you," Alezl mumbled, nodding at the counter.

"Hm," Malik got up, peering into the prepared mixture of mint leaves and chamomile, "This is a bit weak," Nevertheless, he flicked the kettle on.

Shifting awkwardly, entire body curved inwards, Alezl offered, "I think it's meant to be a bit weak," When Malik didn't respond, Alezl shrank back like a kicked animal, "Please don't ignore me."

Returning to the table, Malik plucked up the container of food and Alezl stared up at him, hands still held tautly in his lap. Shifting the rice once more, Malik wandered back to the kettle, nibbling at the rice as he went.

"Malik-"

"Don't threaten me," Malik took another mouthful, swallowing it before looking up at Alezl, "I think I've been pretty patient with you so far, but that's too much," He stuck the fork into the rice, and clicked the kettle off before it came to the boil, "Don't threaten me, or anyone else."

Alezl studied his lap, blood curling through his cheeks in a flush, "I'll promise no such thing."

"Well, then," Malik bared his teeth, "I guess nothing much has changed, after-all-"

"What would you have me do? Kill?" Alezl had clambered to his feet so roughly his body phased through the table and chair, the edges of his skin fizzling in and out of solidity. He panted, glaring at Malik, "If our father were here, I wouldn't be able to do _shit_ ," Alezl looked off to the side, breaking eye-contact, "He'd whip us both and Rishid for good measure, carve us up like a carcass; I'll threaten anyone who does that."

Busying himself with the kettle, Malik turned away from the trembling Alezl, "Sometimes," He found a sentence lodged somewhere between his ribs; cold and desolate in the wake of his body, "You just take the fucking blow."

"That is not _fair_ ," Alezl hissed, throwing a fist through the table, "Nobody gets away with-"

"Then let me deal with it," Malik set the kettle back down, watching the water cloud in the opened teapot.

"You?" Alezl scoffed, "You're weak; I had to save you. I've done so much for you!" He tossed his head towards the door, "More than Rishid ever did and you'd let him follow you like a dog; at least I've got bite and not bark-"

Malik crashed into the table in his attempt to fling himself at Alezl, snarling and spitting, "Don't say that!" He jerked away from the table, thundering round it, but by then Alezl had stepped further into the table, "Don't every say that!" He clawed at Alezl's face, "You would have killed my brother too."

"Gladly!" Alezl laughed, "I hope he trips and breaks his neck! I hope you come crawling right back to me!"

"Don't ever say that!" Malik was snarling, howling like an animal, trying to scratch across the table at Alezl's eyes, "I'll kill you-"

"You sound like me," Alezl accused, backing out through the table, and Malik drew back, hands dropping to his side, "Hell you look like me! All you're missing is the damn third eye," Alezl scratched his hand across his forehead,"Darkness stabbing at your brain- you look like you've got the millennium athame buried in your skull- and you still think you're better than me," Rolling his eyes, Alezl spat at Malik's shoes. There was no saliva to it, no meaning to the insult beyond intent, "Fuck you."

Malik snorted, smiling in a twist of teeth, "I am better than you; You're not even dangerous anymore, you're just a screaming child at this point"

"I am not a child!" Alezl roared, throwing himself into the table - through it, fingers curved for Malik's throat - and through him, falling to the ground with a yipe. Instantaneously, Alezl curled into a ball, yowling between his teeth and pulling at his own hair. Malik twisted to watch the display, nose wrinkling with a sneer.

"Is this how you behave when my body is denied you? Mature," Malik retreated to his food, jamming the top to the teapot back on. He took a bite of rice, mouthing around the bland taste as Alezl shuddered to his feet. He watched Alezl gather himself, entire body bowed.

"Not about that, asshole."

"Hm?" Another bland mouthful of rice.

"I said it wasn't about _that_ ," Alezl wasn't even looking at Malik.

"Then enlighten me," Malik stabbed at his food, "If it's not about getting what you want, what is it abo-"

"You said I didn't care," Alezl's voice was a dangerous, edged sound. His entire body tensed in accusation, "Or, meant it, I don't _know_ ," He turned his head with a violent jerk, like an animal breaking a neck between its jaws, "Whatever. Don't tell me I don't care; I've killed for you."

"You killed for yourself," Malik corrected.

"Well sometimes it's not that different!" Alezl yowled like a broken animal, before averting his eyes along the floor. There was a desperate growl coming off Alezl and Malik swallowed around the dull taste of rice and tahini, "Don't ever say I don't care, don't ever say that," At this Alezl finally makes eye-contact; a brief glancing thing, secondary to his bared teeth, "Don't say it or I swear I'll hate you forever, I swear, I swear-"

He cut off, choking on the noise; he sounded angry enough to break someone's heart.

After a considering moment, Malik set his food to the side. Alezl made no movement, still shaking and swallowing around his fury. Malik expected Alezl to disappear, as he was wont to do when things went too far between them. Nevertheless, he poured out two cups of tea, placing them on the table as he took his seat. Pushing one in Alezl's direction, he waited for the Alezl to evaporate, dissolve away, but instead, Alezl simply joined him at the table. Slowly, and reluctantly, true, but still Alezl took a cautious seat across from him.

Gods. They looked so similar, but Alezl's mouth was small, and slight.

"Here," Malik nudged the cup closer to Alezl.

Placing his hands palm-down on the table top, Alezl studied the backs of them, looking away from the tea, "I can't..."

"Oh," Malik watched Alezl's head turn slightly, looking away. Carefully, Malik pushed his own tea cup off to the side and reached for Alezl's again, "Then-" He paused uneasily, "For you?" He offered, and Alezl looked up at him again, eyes round and mouth still so small. There was a timid nod, and Malik drank the tea in one gulp. Felt it sear his tongue.

* * *

"Change the channel," Alezl drawled quietly, scrunched into a small ball at the far end of the couch, and Malik was startled when the channel had changed. He looked down at the remote in his hand, before squinting at Alezl, "That channel is awful," Alezl shrugged in response.

"Just ask next time," Malik sighed, adjusting his position again. In reaction to Malik stretching out, Alezl curled closer to his end of the couch, his body folding into itself.

"I did," Alezl pressed his face against his knees, humming, "Change the-" Before Alezl could complete the sentence, Malik purposefully clicked through, "Oh not this again," Uncurling, Alezl glared at the television, before looking at Malik plaintively, "Do we have to watch this drivel?" He flopped back against the couch, head leaning on the back of it, "Seriously who bought out the media."

"Some politician, I dunno," Malik clicked the remote, "What did you want to do?"

"Fish."

"Fish?"

"Yeah sure," Alezl nodded tersely, "This is about as interesting as watching fish, right?" He didn't wait for confirmation, "But the fish aren't trying to sell us almond milk, so that's a win."

Laughing under his breath, Malik got to his feet, clicking the television off and nodded towards the garden, "Fish wins then."

Settling down by the koi pond, Malik watched Alezl circle the entire thing first in one direction, then the other, before crouching down by the edge. Taking a seat some way off, Malik rested his chin in his hands, and followed Alezl's small movements, as Alezl watched the fish flickering through the water. Occasionally, Alezl would lean hard to one side or the other, head weaving to watch one of the koi, but inevitably he came back to the same cautious position at the edge of the pond.

Malik opened the book he'd been reading yesterday, flipping through it until he found his mark, and with one final glance at Alezl, he left him to it.

It was only hours later, the sun gleaming duskily at the far-end of the sky, when Rishid trotted out from the back door and looked around, "Over here," Malik waved with the book, getting to his feet. His muscles felt dry in his body, tightening at his bones and he strained, extending his body until he felt it click back into place. Alezl for his part, hadn't moved from his place stretched out alongside the pond, one hand dipped into the water.

"Malik," Rishid's voice was heavy, and reproaching - he sounded almost like Isis at times, and Malik wilted, unsure what he'd done, "You shouldn't be outside when you're unwell."

"Oh," Malik held the book to his chest, "Well I feel fine now, and he wanted to look at the fish so," Too late Malik realized his mistake, but Rishid didn't seem to have noticed any more than Isis, moving to lead Malik back towards the house. At this, Alezl sat up, narrowing his eyes at Rishid.

"Come inside, _habibi_ ," Rishid shook his head, continuing to push lightly at Malik's back, "Habibi," A gentle, reprimanding shove, "Inside with you."

"He's not the boss of you," Alezl leapt to his feet, darting after Malik, and kicking a foot out at Rishid as he did so, "Tell him to fuck off."

Malik had to hold himself back from snapping at Alezl, instead letting Rishid herd him back inside. When they were halfway to Malik's room, Malik finally dug his heels in, "Hey, I said I feel fine, I slept like the entire day," The two brothers studied each other, before Rishid shifted aside and Malik flounced insistently back down the hall, "Rishid, honestly-"

"Yes," Rishid responded, and Malik squinted at him.

"Don't be funny."

"Of course," This time Rishid's deadpan expression faltered, and behind Malik he heard Alezl snickering to himself.

Huffing, Malik clambered onto the couch, stabbing at the remote, "Come on, sit with me," He waited for Rishid to settle down, before promptly flopping into Rishid's side, and flicking through channels determinedly. After a moment, Alezl quietly sat by Malik's feet, half-phasing through his legs and complaining about Rishid in a low tone.

* * *

Malik lounged over the edge of the bath, head leaning into the crook of his arms whilst Alezl toyed with his hands, making various animal shapes and feigning the dismembered thumb trick. He seemed delighted by the last one, and played it several times before making a dog like shape with both hands, "Why do you care?" Malik asked, letting his eyes slip closed in the soothing warmth.

"Huh?" Alezl turned to look at Malik, head tipping.

"Why do you care - you said you did, so I was wondering why?"

"Mh," Alezl looked upwards in thought, face crinkling slightly, "It's not _that_ different to caring about myself, I guess," He shrugged, returning to his play, this time approximating some winged creature.

Sighing, Malik leaned back in the bath, "And now that we're different, has that changed?"

"Not yet," He wove his fingers together, locking them, "I don't know any other way," Alezl's expression seemed misplaced, despairing, "Besides, it's what I was born for; it's what I'm good for." _  
_

"Didn't do a very good job," Malik ran a hand through his soaking hair, grimacing. Alezl hummed in acknowledgement, and Malik shifted, water moving about him, "I was born as heir to my clan, and I don't even bother with that now. It's just a title. And my father's blood is on my hands, so."

Growling, Alezl slammed both hands down next to him, "No it's on mine, you selfish git."

"You don't feel bad about it though," Malik once more slung himself over the edge of the bath, arms falling idly over the side, "And this body is me - it's how I think of myself - when it kills someone, I feel as though I did. And I feel bad."

"Well, I wouldn't."

"I noticed," Malik leant his head against the cool edge of the bath, skin prickling at the back of his neck. When he looked up again, Alezl had moved in front of him, facing him and staring angrily, "What?"

"Don't feel bad," Alezl snarled, " _I'll_ feel bad - it doesn't mean anything to me."

He laughed under his breath, "It doesn't work that way, you can't just give and take that kind of thing."

Alezl's snarl deepened, spread wider and more moody, "I don't see why not; I've done it before," Scrambling to his feet, Alezl folded his arms over his chest, and whipped around. If he'd been wearing a cloak it would have cut through Malik's face, "It doesn't work that way anymore, fine, but I don't see why it shouldn't."

Malik folded his arms, resting his head on them again, "Things are different with us now, though, you can't feel without projecting, you can't control me. This is probably just different too."

"So," Alezl glanced back over his shoulder, "Why do I still care if I can't do a fucking thing about it?"

"I don't catch your meaning-"

"I do terrible things, and I get to decide when and why you feel bad about anything," Alezl hissed, "That's how it works! I don't want to concern myself with you if I can't be _any_ good."

"You don't have to concern yourself with me - I can look after myself."

Alezl howled at Malik, face contorting, "Well then I'm good for nothing!"

Holding his hand up, Malik gestured for Alezl to sit down, who stared at him queerly in response, "Sit down."

"Don't _fucking_ wanna."

"I said sit down, you brat," Malik rubbed at his face, groaning, "Just sit down and listen."

Grudgingly, Alezl sat, folding his legs and arms petulantly, "Fine."

"Firstly," Malik sat up straighter in the bath, looking off to the side uncomfortably, whilst Alezl tilted his head. With a sigh, Malik looked him square-on, and began a little slowly, "It's different now; I can take care of myself. I can feel bad about this; I want to feel bad about this."

"Why?"

"Because it means I'm better, or," Malik paused, "Getting better."

Alezl snorted, "If you're so much better, how come I'm here?"

"Besides the point," Malik's eyebrow twitched in response, "Point is you're worthless to me," Alezl opened his mouth to speak, but clipped it closed dully, "So you should find something else to be good for."

"Like what?" Alezl snapped, waving a hand through the bath, "Walking through walls? Disappearing?"

"I found my own purpose," Malik shut his eyes gently, "So I'm sure you can - we were the same person once, weren't we? You'll be fine."

Alezl scrambled to his knees, pointing an accusing finger at Malik, "You don't understand a thing, you don't understand a thing!"

He leaned forward, jamming his arm through Malik's neck, and Malik spluttered instinctively.

"Look!" Alezl cried, "You got this!" He waved his fingers about, "All this!" Staring at Malik in unashamed fury, Alezl clawed at his throat, "Our body isn't mine at all, it's all _yours_ while I'm fighting- just to- to feel something, anything, anything at all!"

Alezl pulled his arms away, hitting himself against the chest with a hard thump.

"You get all their love, and all your joy and I got everything you didn't want, every part of you not good enough for you," Getting to his feet, Alezl stumbled backwards hastily, and crashed against a nearby wall. He threw a hand over his face, hissing and snarling, "How can you tell me to go find something else when you're everything I've ever had!"

"Alezl-" Malik scrambled to get out of the bath, but Alezl turned towards him with a deranged expression that had Malik skidding back into the tub.

"I hate you, I don't want you, you want me dead!" Alezl yelled, and spat at Malik. There was no spittle, but Malik reflexively brushed a hand along his face, "Fuck off and ask nothing of me ever again," Alezl made to stalk for the door, and added over his shoulder, "If you can," The words sounded wounded; twisted somewhere between desperate and angry. With that, Alezl shifted through the door, leaving Malik alone in the bathroom.

* * *

As soon as Malik had left the bathroom, still dabbing a towel at his hair, Rishid had pounced. Expertly blocking Malik's way, and backing him towards his bedroom, Rishid had been implacable. Malik feinted to the left, then the right, but as always Rishid met him halfway, "Ugh, how do you always know which way I'm going," Malik complained when Rishid gently rebuffed a badly thought out rush.

"If I told you, you'd be that much harder to catch," Rishid informed Malik, continuing to steer him towards his bedroom, "You need to sleep well so you can recover-"

"I'm honestly fine," Malik tried to wriggle past Rishid's left, and eyed Rishid hopefully, "What if I'm hungry."

"I'll bring you food."

"What if I get food on the sheets?" Malik questioned, hands settling on his hips, "I won't recover well if I'm sleeping with half my dinner."

Rishid stared down his nose at Malik - much more a design of height, and not one of conceit - before answering, "You don't eat that poorly."

Malik stayed resolute, shoulders shifting as he kept his stance, "I can and I will."

"Then you can sleep in messy sheets," Rishid answered pragmatically, and moved forward, causing Malik to jump back several paces.

"Aw, come on," Malik tried the hopeful eyes once more, "We can eat together," Rishid continued his advance, and Malik shrank back slightly, "It's just, I miss you sometimes."

Rishid stopped, squinting at Malik, "You're impossible, _habibi_ ," He decided, but parted to the side.

Bounding past for the kitchen, Malik trailed his hand along the side of the wall and grinned back at Rishid, "I love you anyway," As Malik took the turn into the kitchen, he caught the briefest glimpse of Alezl jolting out of a chair, and slinking through a nearby wall. Coming to a stop, hand resting on the door frame, Malik stared at the place where Alezl had run.

" _Habibi_?" Rishid asked gently, touching Malik at the elbow, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah-" Malik shook his head unclearly, "Just," He grasped at a stray thought, tangling it into words, "Isis isn't home. Isn't it late?"

Rishid nodded, and went over to the fridge, pulling it open, "She said she was going to finish off some work, and would be half an hour late."

"Mh," Malik slid into his spot, fingers curling around the edge of the seat, as if suddenly aware how possessive he was of his spot at a table. That notion of belonging in a space.

"In fact," Rishid inspected a small cling-wrapped container of hummus, "I believe she phoned to tell me so about two hours ago."

Unable to stop it, a laugh bubbled up through Malik and he let go of the chair, combing a hand through his hair as he chuckled, "Trust sis," Malik quirked his head, "Are you going to pick her up soon? I probably shouldn't drive."

"No you shouldn't," Rishid agreed, looking at a small tub of dried figs with a discerning air, "And I will. When she remembers herself and calls me."

Malik chuckled again, "She's never going to be on time for anything ever again is she?"

"No, I think not," Rishid smiled, rifling through the cupboard by the fridge, "How hungry are you, _habibi_?"

Malik shrugged, "A little - do you need any help?"

"Oh, no," Malik settled back into his seat from mid-rise, and Rishid continued laying things out on the counter. As he brought up two plates from one of the lower cupboards, Rishid asked, almost conversationally, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Startled, Malik couldn't help but blink at Rishid, expression tightening, "What?" Something fluttery, and nervous came twisting up through Malik's stomach, and a little hungry evaporated into not at all, "Why do you ask?" He demanded a little too harshly.

Not a flicker from Rishid at that, Malik thought regretfully.

"You stopped attending your therapy," Rishid answered with a pragmatic edge to his voice, "Isis noticed."

"And as usual went to you not me about it," Malik chewed at the inside of his lip sullenly, and Rishid shrugged, "I'm fine, it's just-"

He waited, hopefully for Rishid to fill in the blank spaces, but as usual Rishid was impassive, continuing to prepare dinner unperturbed by the way Malik had cut off his sentence. Most people couldn't wait to fill in the gaps; Alezl would have gladly filled the space.

"Just like the others," Malik finished lamely, and honestly, "They didn't, really-" He fiddled with his words, working them around his mouth, "They didn't get it, and they treated me like a child, and it was so annoying I couldn't stand going back."

"Mh," Rishid returned to the table with both plates, setting them down, "You will tell me if something is wrong?"

Wilting under Rishid's warm, unyielding gaze, Malik picked up a dried fig, chewing it as slowly as possible. Swallowing awkwardly, he shrugged, meeting Rishid's eyes with a helpless look in his own, "I will."

* * *

That night, Alezl did not crawl into bed with Malik, not that he expected Alezl to do so. He'd been so ferocious, but still, Malik fully expected to see Alezl curled at the foot of the bed when he woke up, and not a moment sooner. It was therefore disconcerting when he was wrong.

Sliding out of bed, and padding through the house, Malik followed a lulling promise from his gut, and quickly found Alezl seated by the fish pond, almost entirely unmoving and eyes staring off into space. As he approached, Alezl's head whipped about to look at Malik, and he scrabbled to his feet. He looked less like a deer in headlights, as some kind of lanky predator with its leg between a steel-trap. Malik wouldn't have been surprised to see Alezl chew his own limb off to escape, so he approached slowly, softly.

"No where much to run to," Malik knelt by the pond, staring at his reflection, and arching his back slightly, "I mean you're still in my head, right?"

There was a considering quiet, and if it hadn't been for the thin reflection of Alezl in the water, he might have thought Alezl had run away again. Slowly, Alezl folded his arms over his chest, "Not _all_ in _your_ head," Alezl stated firmly, "Some of it is mine," There was no waver in Alezl's voice, the statement coming out with a clear confidence, but in the water, his face crinkled after the words had been said. Uncertainly crossing shamelessly over his face.

Malik shrugged, "Okay," He caught a flicker of bright gold in the water, "Can you help me with the fish?"

"Why should I help you?" Alezl snarled, crouching next to Malik and peering into the water.

"I need help remembering which fish is which," Malik continued, "Can you help me?"

"Alright," Alezl snapped, voice taunt, "That one-" He pointed firmly at the ripple of gold, "Is Berteqaley."

* * *

They had been working on a motorbike together - things had improved, or whatever counted as improvement - when they heard the telltale yell of Isis’ goodbye, her hurrying footsteps and the belated slam of the door, and Alezl had tutted under his breath, "She'll be tired when she finally gets home."

"That's sis," Malik answered distractedly, tightening a bolt until his fingers stung. Grunting under the effort, he strained against the metal.

"That's tight enough I think," Alezl snorted, grinning, "Hah-"

"Yeah, yeah real mature." Malik continued to fight with the bolt, grimacing and snarling as he worked it into place.

“It’s weird to see Rishid and Isis again,” Alezl chatted, “Especially Rishid’s, with that face of his.”

“Don’t talk about him,” Malik warned, dropping the wrench to the side, and wiping the sweat off his brow. His fingers left a streak of dark grease behind, smeared across his damp forehead.

“Isis looks less worn though,” Alezl changed the subject, “She sleeps deeply.”

“Too deeply,” Malik asserted, stepping away from the bike. He studied it with a displeased expression.

“Time has been kind to her,” Alezl shrugged, glancing at the bike, before returning his attention to Malik, “Rishid seems less rigid too, less sharp. It’s a kind thing.”

“You wouldn’t know anything about that,” Malik muttered.

“No,” A laugh of agreement, “That’s all I meant – his face has the same pain we have, but it seems to be healing.”

“…Don’t talk about Rishid; I can’t stand it,” Malik rubbed at his chin, still squinting at the bike, “Do you think we should just completely rebuild this engine, it’s not-”

“Oi.”

“Alezl?” Malik set his hands on his hips, smudging thumbprints in stains along his sweatpants.

“Oi,” Alezl repeated and Malik turned round, squinting curiously.

“Can I help-” Malik cut off, when Alezl curled his hands about Malik’s face with a solemn expression. He cleared his throat, dryness catching at his voice, “Alezl?”

“There are lines in our face that are new to me,” Alezl murmured, face still and voice thinning with disappointment, “And our eyelashes-” His fingers skimmed at Malik’s eyelashes, and Malik blinked away from the nails, “They’re different.”

“What are you-”

Alezl stroked the back of his knuckles against Malik’s face, sliding barely over the skin- despite there being nothing to feel, Malik shivered and his voice perished in the curve of his throat.

“There’s a hardness that wasn’t here before,” Alezl sighed, eyes closing, “Before me,” He cupped Malik’s cheek, hand trembling with the effort not to slip. Slide through Malik’s body. Ghost through his skin.

Alezl opened his eyes – and again, that sickly sweet wrench at Malik’s gut, pulling and worrying at something bone-deep – and Alezl tipped his head, leaning out of Malik’s space, hands spilling to his sides with a clumsy laugh.

“It’s fine,” Something despairing seemed to be in Alezl’s eyes, making his face sharp and teeth bare- -but there was a sadness that Malik didn’t think he would have noticed.

A faint laugh.

“I’m kidding myself-” He paused, uncertain, and Malik left the gap for Alezl to fill, “But I wanted to think of it as mine, one last time.”

“Alezl,” Malik asked uneasily, voice a runny slur of fear, and his fingers wrung at the hem of his shirt, leaving dirty splotches of black behind them, “Are you…” And how to word this? “Alezl, are you dying?”

“What?” Alezl barked out a laugh, body doubling over in amusement, “Is that why you look so _desperate_?”

“Are you?” Malik snapped.

“No,” Alezl replied with an idle eyeroll, “I just don’t actually exist, it’s no big deal,” He rolled his shoulders in a lazy, accepting shrug, “I’m used to it.”

“You’re not dying?”

“No,” Alezl nodded, and stumbling through his snorts and giggles, he staggered over to the bench. Jumping up neatly to sit on the benchtop, his legs swinging, and the edge of one hand neatly intersecting with a spare gearbox, Alezl tipped gave a devilish grin, “Clean your face – you’ve got muck on it that wasn’t there before.”

* * *

Knowledge was like metal, swallowed whole and left unmoving somewhere in Malik’s body. Every movement seemed to rattle it, click it hard against something soft and palpable inside him, leave some overly sensitive feeling bruised and wincing.

Alezl missed the body.

Malik rolled onto his side as carefully as possible to study the faint outline of Alezl.

He missed the body.

Alezl’s face was tense in the darkness, the uneven furrow of his eyebrows and the way he tucked his head into his elbow as he slept. He had been truthful that first night – he did not take up much of the bed, sleeping curled on his side like a small animal. And if he bared his teeth, growling in his sleep at some imagined thing, well-

Alezl missed the body.

Malik flipped back over onto his back, sighing up at the grainy texture of the ceiling. It was such a demanding sight, and the knowledge was still heavy inside him.

If it had been something as difficult to quantify as coveting the body- and when exactly had Malik called it the body, as though it was something he owned rather than was? He clenched his fingers into claws and released them.

Alezl missed the body, and Malik understood that. If Alezl coveted it, or was envious, then Malik would have been left floundering, trying to guess how Alezl felt. Instead experience sat weightily on Malik’s chest and squeezed the breath out of him. Little by little, like a towel wrung out for use.

* * *

"No," Alezl scowled up at Malik, eyes rolling, "That's Alelyel, I told you he was the kumonryu," Malik folded his arms over his chest, sighing, "Gods, it isn't hard Malik," Alezl got to his feet, stepping into Malik's space and gesturing largely with his hands, "Alelyel has the black sumi all over him, the other one is Memlh, he's the white and black banded one; a shiroutsuri."

Malik tilted his head, "I really don't understand how you learnt all this so quickly," He picked up the bag of pellets, and Alezl threw his hands in the air, his fingertips skimming through Malik's body, "What?"

"That's too much!" Alezl protested, glaring angrily at the handful of pellets. With that, Alezl crouched by the pond, placing both hands in the water, and watching the fish skitter about. Malik dropped the food into the water, pellet by pellet until Alezl growled under his breath. Finally, Malik dipped his hand into the water, and this time one of the koi drifted closer, "Good," Alezl grinned.

"Is that Memlh?"

"Alelyel," Alezl corrected, fanning a hand through the kumonryu's back, before his fingers hooked into claws, scratching at the koi.

Malik jerked, hand pulling from the water, and scattering Alelyel, "Don't do that!"

"Huh?" Alezl looked up, "Why? He can't feel me?" Alezl pulled both hands from the water, side-eying Malik, "You're the one who scared him - tomorrow he won't eat with you watching."

"It's a fish," Malik sighed, "I don't think they know the difference."

Snorting, Alezl toyed with the water, "Did you actually read that book? I was playing with the fish, and even I managed to read it."

Face furrowing, Malik tilted his head, "How?"

"The book was right in front of us," Alezl shrugged, shoulders curling forward to look closer into the water, "I'm all in your head, aren't I?"

"Mh," The sound was non-commital, light and neutral. The hum of it didn't taste like anything in Malik's mouth.

Alezl edged closer to the pond, "I'm sorry," at this he peered round at Malik, "I'm sorry for placing my hands inside your body."

Colouring, Malik shrugged widely, "Could you not say it like-" Alezl peered at him with a vague curiousity, and Malik sighed, abandoning the matter, "It's fine. I do it all the time."

"I know," Alezl looked back towards the nishikigoi, and slid his fingertips back into the water. Then his whole hand, "I don't-" He hunched slightly, shuffling by the pond, "It doesn't feel good," He settled on.

Slipping his own fingers into the water, Malik leaned close enough to look at Alezl more carefully, but Alezl remained cautiously looking into the water. He cleared his throat, swept the sudden tightness from it with a small cough, and then gently bid;

"Does it hurt you?"

"No," Alezl slumped slightly, "It just doesn't feel good."

"I don't understand," Malik could feel his shoulder beginning to ache from the uncomfortable posture, and he shifted about, careful to avoid intersecting with Alezl.

"Putting your body through mine doesn't hurt," Alezl stated, "But- -it's like the book. You're not looking at it," He paused, swallowing, "Can you not hold our shoulder like that? It hurts and I can't make it stop."

"I'm sorry," Malik immediately withdrew his hand, settling his body into a more comfortable position, "What do you mean?"

Alezl looked off to the side, studiously ignoring Malik, and breathed out with a vicious huff, "I don't know what I mean - I never know what I mean."

"Can you try and figure it out?"

That got Alezl's attention, pulling it round with an angered hiss, "I _am_!" Alezl crossed his arms over his chest, entire body clenching and tightening along his bones, "You-"

"Me."

"You see through me sometimes," Alezl gritted his teeth, the sound a clack-clack grimace, "I don't like it, so I won't do it to you."

Malik frowned, "Do you want me to stop?"

The muscles in Alezl's arms tensed with an alarmingly mechanical movement, "I don't mind."

That left something grimy and shivery swimming in Malik's gut, and he sat down properly, folding his legs under him. With a fine, steady flourish of his hand, he examined it again, almost curving his fingertips into sharp hooks as he reached out to brush at Alezl's arm, "I-"

" _Habibi_ ," Rishid stepped lightly down the steps, as Malik looked away from Alezl to blink at his brother. A single blond eyebrow raised in question and Rishid gestured for Malik to stand up, "Isis’ home - can you help me for a moment?" Rishid held his hands out towards Malik, and Malik curled his fingers gently in Rishid's. No claws, no tense edge to the touch.

Pulled to his feet, Malik followed Rishid curiously- glancing back to see Alezl watching after him with a blank expression.

"Sis is home early today-" Malik paused, coming to a stop to toss his head back, looking over Alezl again. The expression was _lost_ , and Malik flicked his head, indicating as quietly as possible that Alezl should follow him, before quickly moving back in step behind Rishid, "Do you need me to help set up for dinner?"

"No," Rishid sounded off, and Malik peered at the back of him.

"No?"

"No," Rishid confirmed, still sounding unlike himself.

"What's going on?" Alezl asked from the back of him, and Malik ignored him, this time aware of the careful reshuffling of his attention. A little too aware for his liking, in fact.

Instead he poked at Rishid's arm, "Well, what am I helping with?"

"Your sister wants to talk with you," Ah - there was the strange feel to Rishid; he sounded disapproving.

Malik's steps slowed nervously, "Um," Rishid looked back at Malik, "Are you mad at me?"

"No," Rishid replied, continuing to lead back into the house. He ducked out of the way to let Malik enter the house, and Alezl had outright hissed when the path behind them had closed up.

"Stop it," Malik scarcely breathed, murmuring as thinly below his breath as he could. Chastened, Alezl gave one final growl of distrust, before stalking ahead with all the graceful wariness of a predator. He had such an animal manner to him, Malik supposed. All elegant lines of movement and quick, clumsy bristling and spat out snarls.

He tried to pay no mind to Alezl, instead heading for the kitchen. As soon as he'd entered, Isis had walked through Alezl to envelop Malik into her arms, "Malik! How are you?"

"Oh dear," Malik patted at her back, heart picking up a nervous stammering habit at Isis’ forwardness, "Did I do-"

"You've done nothing wrong," Isis assured him - a little too pre-emptively - and gestured for Malik to sit. After a considering moment, Malik took the chair Isis had indicated, settling his arms on the kitchen table.

She sat to the side of him. It was pretty bad then.

Rishid, however, took the seat next to Malik, and across from him he saw Alezl lean against the table, one eye kept on the proceedings.

"What is-" Malik began, looking between Isis and Rishid with a furtive expression.

"You haven't been to therapy in almost five months-"

"Four," Rishid corrected, and his voice was sharp enough to have Malik twist round to stare at him. Rishid's entire face was a stern, almost angry, and certainly disagreeable one- -and something in the set of his shoulders was harsher than Malik was familiar with.

"Rishid's pissed," Alezl chipped in, and Malik looked over towards him, "That's very interesting, personally-" Malik tore his eyes away from Alezl, to focus on Isis again.

"-That's what I'm talking about," Oh- when had Isis picked up that slightly high-pitched tone, "I noticed over breakfast a week ago that you can't keep your eyes still."

"I'm sorry-" Malik held both hands up, chair edging slightly backwards, "What is this about?"

"Malik, you've been neglecting your therapy," Isis reached forward to gently pull Malik's hand from the air, placing it on the table and patting it, "What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on-"

"That therapist was junk," Alezl commented, clicking his tongue, "No real loss there-"

"-Isis," Rishid interrupted harshly, entire body moving forward and Malik jolted in surprise.

Isis was stroking his hand a little too softly, "You're having trouble focusing, you don't make eye-contact, and I've been waiting for you to get back into therapy on your own terms, but I just, it's been a long time-"

Alezl waved an airy hand, "Not your business, you nag-"

"I'm fine," Malik snapped, volume completely unreasonable.

"Malik," Isis was _still_ stroking his hand with a gentle sort of love that reeked pretty strongly of- Malik thought it might have been pity, either way it made him want to- to-

"Scream?" Alezl offered.

"Malik?"

"Isis," Rishid sounded steely.

In response, Malik shifted away from Rishid uncertainly, "Rishid..."

"Your sister feels we need to talk about this," Rishid stated coldly, and Malik made to pull his hand away from Isis’, but suddenly she held firm. Fingers tight and choking at his wrists. Alezl's head whipped round, crossed arms unfolding and body turning towards the scene with a slow deliberation.

"Tell her to unhand you," Alezl narrowed his eyes, "Or I'll be unhanding her at the wrists."

Malik had been trying to stay focused on Isis, but looked at Alezl, gaping at him- the word _no_ sat somewhere in the back of his mouth. He pulled at his hand more frantically, "Let go, 'Shizu, let-"

"Let him go," Rishid snapped, standing up in his spot suddenly enough to have Malik yanking and pulling at Isis’ grip. She let him go quickly, and Malik scattered to his feet, chair shoving back with a whine against the floor.

"Malik, easy," Isis soothed, and Malik scrabbled for the back of his chair, trying to convince himself to drop back into it, "We're just trying to help you."

"They can't be serious?" Alezl rolled his eyes, circling now, and Malik tracked him with his eyes, "Help?"

Rishid folded his arms over his chest, making for the doorway, "This was badly thought out," The disappointment was ringing in his voice and Malik made to scramble after him, almost tripping over his own legs trying to get round the chair, when Isis grabbed at the hem of his shirt.

"Please, Malik, please just take a seat, and it'll be okay, you'll be-"

"I'm _fine_ ," Malik yelped, "I don't need help!"

"Yeah you don't need anybody helping you," Alezl bared his teeth, "Mr Self Sufficient, Mr You're Worthless to-"

"Shut up!" The demand was torn out of Malik in a near screech, and Isis abruptly let go of Malik's shirt, getting to her feet cautiously.

"Rishid!" She called, but she needn't have bothered, Rishid had stopped at the farside of the kitchen, watching Malik. Isis focused on Malik, placing a slip of paper on the table whilst maintaining firm eye-contact. Immediately Alezl ambled over to read over it, and Malik slid towards the doorway, "Malik- -you don't need to look at it now, but there's an appointment time I've-"

"Your sister is an asshole," Alezl announced, shoving away from the table with a huff.

"If we can just sit down, and _talk_ -" Isis motioned for Rishid to block the doorway, but Rishid remained off to the side, "Rishid?"

"He panicked when you trapped his hand," Rishid stated firmly, "I'm not trapping him in this room."

"He's not well, this came on so suddenly-"

At this Rishid's firm voice became laced with anger, "This did not come on suddenly, you've-

Again Alezl felt his commentary was somehow vital to this discussion, "They do know we're still here?"

"I'm still here," Malik pulled at the hem of his shirt, "I'm still here, can we talk about me like I'm here, I'm still here."

"Malik," And finally Isis’ tone of voice hit him like a slap, as he realized exactly what it meant. Malik was irrational; some animal of emotion and reaction to gentle with a stroke of the hand, light flavour of the voice. He felt spoken through, like the words were secondary and his presence in the room a tertiary that had little priority, "We just-"

"This was badly thought through," Rishid repeated, and he gestured at the door for Malik.

"And now Rishid wants you to take suggestions? Fuck them both I say," Alezl trailed after Malik, who had taken to the door with a grateful rush, "Well that was-"

Malik whirled on his heel, screaming into Alezl's face, "I hate you! Leave me alone!" Shock crossed over Alezl's face like a shadow settling into the grooves of his expression, and then he dissolved with a nervous flicker. In the fog left after Alezl, Malik saw Rishid retracting his hand.

"My... apologies," Rishid murmured, backing away, and Malik's throat clogged, cluttered up. His skull ached and his thoughts blurred, as Rishid left him standing in the hallway.

* * *

Malik hid in his room, lying curled up on his bed and drifting into the relative safety of sleep. When he woke again, Alezl was nowhere in sight, and his light had been turned off. The entire room was dark, the familiar gloom an unwelcome reassurance; he hated how used to darkness he was, how well he thrived with the curtains shut and lights turned down.

Still- he'd left his light on before he'd fallen asleep.

He rolled up, padding towards the door and opening it as quietly as he could. Taking a deep breath, he edged out into the corridor and began making his way down the corridor for the kitchen. He stopped halfway there, straining to make out the voices from the living room.

Changing direction, he slunk that way, still struggling to eavesdrop-

"-told you; he and I had spoken about it," That was Rishid's voice, low and steadying, "He'll go back when he's ready, you can't just-"

"Dr Alzaadi is renowned," Isis murmured, "I didn't realize how much worse Malik has gotten," And that was a suckerpunch somewhere emotionally, "He needs help. He's taken such a sudden dive, and after three years of nothing but improve-"

"With all due respect," And Malik couldn't find one iota of respect in Rishid's voice, only the slight restraint afforded by love and sibling affection, "You aren't here most of the time."

"I know that- I try to, but-"

"You're in no position to judge, if you're not here," Rishid interrupted Isis, "Over the last few years, Malik has had episodes-" Malik flinched, "Like this before, maybe not exactly like this, but it has not been constant improvement"

"Even you said this is worse than you're used to," Isis seemed to be taking a calming breath, "Rishid, you told me you were concerned too."

"It is, and I am, but it isn't so bad that you _corner_ him for an intervention," By now Rishid had almost raised his voice, "He was clearly nervous from the very start; it was never going to end-" Rishid's raised voice cracked, breaking off and Malik came a little closer, still trying to hear Rishid.

All he heard was Isis gently shushing Rishid, murmuring a cooling litany of platitudes. She sounded kind. Malik caught at the soft words, and they sizzled somewhere in his nerves, "-he doesn't hate you-"

"-stressed," Another patter of noise and hushes, "-be fine in the morning, Rishid."

Malik almost fled down the corridor with hammering footsteps, but forced himself to move slowly through the dark towards his room again.

* * *

Alezl returned somewhere in the morning, dawn hazily slinking into the room shortly before Alezl fizzled into view. Malik watched Alezl appear, sitting at the edge of his bed, before rubbing his hands over his eyes in frustration. Even after all of that, Alezl was still here? His siblings thought him mad, and given Alezl's persistent presence, he was rather sure they were right.

"I'm sorry," Alezl stated, voice sounding uncannily like Isis’. Not like her when she's stroked Malik's hand, but the same tight hold of words she'd used to comfort Rishid.

Malik wondered if he ever sounded like Isis.

"What for?" He asked, after a moment. Every word felt heavy and tired and nothing at all like Isis.

"I'm sorry I exist," Alezl murmured, "I didn't ask for you to be broken."

"I'm broken?" Malik sighed, eyes shut and frowning to himself, "Don't answer; it's not a question."

Alezl sounded impatient, voice tensing, as he slowly corrected Malik, "You _were_ broken," Malik opened his eyes to look up at the ceiling, and the slight sunflash teasing at it in a clear gold, "That's why I exist, and I'm sorry about that. We'd both be happier if I didn't exist."

"I thought you liked existing - I really didn't take you for the suicidal kind."

"I'm not," Alezl flopped down next to Malik on the bed, "Me dying wouldn't change the past," He laughed, the sound a pale glow of emotion, "Think of me like the bastard kid from a broken condom - I've ruined lives, but now that I'm here, there's no going back."

"And in this metaphor, my mind is-"

"The broken condom, yeah, sure," Alezl chuckled, arms hooking behind his head, "You are a bit of a dickhead."

"That doesn't make any sense," Malik found himself laughing, "Shit," He rubbed at his mouth with his hand, "What am I going to do?"

"Go eat," Alezl suggested, glancing at Malik.

"About Rishid," Malik looked off to the side, "I really hurt him."

"Oh," Alezl looked up at the ceiling with Malik, and ran his tongue over his teeth in thought, "I dunno, no good with unhurting people," He shrugged, "Apologize to him?"

"Huh?"

"Seems to work," Alezl clicked his tongue, "And give him some more food- make him something."

Malik squinted at Alezl, "You got this from the fish book, didn't you?"

The laugh was sudden, as violent as ever but Malik could hear tones of delight, and enthusiasm in it- nothing as meaningful as threatening, "Maybe I should apologize to Mesherq for not giving him more food, that might just work."

* * *

He'd lain awake, talking softly to Alezl, until he heard Isis’ door slam back on its hinges, the familiar slam of her feet against the floor and then soon after the sound of her leaving the house. She'd been a little more hurried than usual, a little later than Malik expected, and that was probably Malik's fault. He probably should apologize to Isis too, but a small part of Malik had been snarling that it wanted her to apologize to him.

Worst of all, Alezl had agreed, talking in that heedless tone of his.

"Rishid said it right," Alezl insisted.

"That I _hate_ him?" Malik whispered incredulously.

"Of course not; you said he told Isis it was none of her business, and it isn't," Alezl snorted, "It's none of their business."

"It's Rishid's business," Malik looked off to the side, "I think I should tell him about you, at least to explain some of my... recent behaviour."

"About me?" Alezl flicked an eye open, peering at Malik, and then shrugged, "If you like."

Malik drew himself up, frowning, "I don't need your permission."

Chuckling, Alezl opened both eyes, rolling towards Malik, "If you asked for it, I'd say no: I don't trust Rishid."

"Oh?" Malik paused, waiting in the dim light of his room, listening to the telltale sounds of Isis leaving for the day. The long pause between her waking up and leaving probably signalled another hushed conversation between his siblings, well if they could have a hushed conversation about him, he could certainly have one about them, "Why not?"

"He's always failed us," Alezl sniffed, laying out on his back with a stretch of his arms, "Lying on the floor bleeding when our father turned the whip on us, leaving you without an ally in Battle City-"

"He couldn't be expected to fight father-" Malik scowled, "He was in a coma!" Malik protested, "And Isis was an ally-"

"Isis was thoroughly against us," Alezl decided, baring his teeth, "You might be thinking of confiding in Rishid, but you honestly don't trust our sister."

"I just don't think she'd handle this well."

"Nobody handles me well," Alezl yawned, and stared over at Malik, reaching out vaguely for Malik's face, "I fought father; I won too."

"You killed father," Malik withdrew from Alezl's fingertips, looking away from him, "I can't forgive you for that."

"Malik?" Alezl seemed to be trying to get Malik's attention, but Malik toyed with a loose thread from the sheets, resolutely avoiding Alezl's face, even as he shifted insistently towards him. Ducking in and out of his view. Finally, Alezl crouched over Malik, staring at him until he had no option but to look up. Immediately a brighter look came to his face, showing in a twisted snarl. If he could have held Malik down, if he was anything more than a ghost, Malik supposed this would have been a pin-

"What do you want?" He snapped.

"I'm not sorry," Alezl stated firmly, eying Malik with a dangerous intensity, "I will never be sorry for saving us."

Malik flicked his head to the side, unable to look at Alezl anymore for the dangerous nausea that had come up. He clenched, and unclenched his fingers, forming a fist and letting it go-

"Did you have to do it with these hands?" He asked dully.

"Yes," Alezl nodded, "Because of Rishid."

"Mh," Still avoiding Alezl's eyes, Malik stared at the ceiling, "If you don't want me to walk through you, please get off me."

"Of course," Rolling away, Alezl slid off the bed and stretched out as he stepped about the room, "I'm going to the fish," He announced, stepping through the nearest wall, leaving Malik alone in the room. And there, at the edge of his awareness was the slam of Isis leaving the house.

Gingerly, Malik got to his own feet, looking down as his toes wriggled in the soft pattern of his carpet. He took a breath in, let it lend him strength and set steel into his soul, before marching into the corridor, heading for the kitchen. He found Rishid sitting at the table, across from Malik's usual spot with two plates for breakfast, and cold coffee in Malik's spot. Something in Rishid's untouched food, the patient set of his shoulders and quiet, unarmed smile- something in that broke something in Malik's chest. He couldn't be sure, but from the ache and pull of it, he suspected it might have been his heart.

"Lord Malik," The ache was painful now, clamouring in Malik's chest and scratching at his ribs, "Good Morning."

"Don't-" Malik bit back the word as soon as he'd said it. He took his seat uneasily, "Brother, please don't call me that."

"I apologize," Rishid edged Malik's plate towards him, "Please eat - you slept late..."

He stared down at the food, the sepia-toned reflection of himself in the coffee cup, "Why do you take such good care of me?"

"Sorry?" Rishid blinked.

"I've done nothing but make your life hell," Malik mumbled, "I'm awful, I'm honestly awful-"

"You're not."

Malik nudged his food out of the way, "I don't understand why you put up with me," He stared up at Rishid, biting his lip, and the eye-contact wavered, but for the life of him he couldn't look away, "I'm entitled, forgetful- broken, damaged- I don't even do anything, I'm- I'm selfish and thoughtless and I don't work right," He laughed, the sound hollowing out his ribcage, "If I hadn't been born, I bet father would have made you heir," Malik paused, face scrunching up at a thought, "He probably would have married you to Isis to ratify that. Ew."

"Ew," Rishid agreed with a nod.

"I just, if you didn't hate me for that, for taking that away," Malik breathed, voice breaking with confusion and sewn together with unease, "Shouldn't you at least hate me for the- shadow thing. You know. Murderous alter-ego." _  
_

"Malik," Rishid sighed, sliding a hand across the table and leaving it between them. Malik looked at it blankly, but Rishid held it there, "If you hadn't been born, I would never have met you."

He laughed again, feeling like he was choking on needles, "Exactly."

" _Habibi_ , you don't understand yourself very well."

"Does _anyone_?"

Rishid laughed then, and smiled quietly at Malik, "I do; I raised you," He peered at Malik, scanning him in a deliberate show of consideration, "You're passionate, a little wild- you make terrible jokes, but have a way with your hands, if not your words," He chuckled, "You used to make flower crowns for your sister," He laughed again, richly, "Once you gave me an pot full of stars - you'd caught them in the water's reflection. You were so angry when they all ran away."

"That's mortifying," Malik hid his face behind his hands, "I'm an idiot."

"You were young," Rishid shrugged, "It was very sweet, truthfully," He cleared his throat, "Malik- You remind me of your mother."

Malik peeked out from behind his hands, "My... mother?"

"Mh," A nod, "Very much so."

"I always thought I was more like father..." Malik's hands dropped gently back to the table, and he looked between them and Rishid's hands, still laid out in open invite.

"Please never think that," Rishid murmured, "It couldn't be further from the truth. Your father was a very self-centered and unfair man, but you have the gift of seeing things from the eyes of other's before your own," He inclined his head, "I think sometimes, you feel other's pain a little too keenly."

Malik slumped in his spot, "Then I'm weak."

"No," The correction was firmer than Rishid often was, "Your mother was strong, and her kindness did not weaken her, just as your father's _lack_ of kindness was not strength," Malik gazed at his brother uncertainly, but Rishid gazed back defiantly, "To take on someone else's suffering, to want to avenge your family, or comfort a brother - an adopted son - even in the throes of your own pain?" Rishid's voice broke faintly, and for once his head ducked, "You are so like her, _habibi..._ I thought once that her love died with her, but you-"

"I love you," Malik's hands flew across the table, grabbing at Rishid's own, "I love you, I love you, I love you," He stumbled over the words, clutching at Rishid's fingers, "I can't hate you, I didn't mean for you to ever think that, please never think that, I'm so sorry I killed father-"

"No," Rishid interrupted, gripping Malik's hands back, "I should have killed that man long before he took a knife to you."

"Why- why didn't you?" Malik stuttered, freezing.

"You loved him," Rishid whispered, "I couldn't take the only parent left to you."

"I-" Malik looked down at their linked hands, clinging tighter and curling over in his spot to cry helplessly into the table, "I wish I wasn't broken," He whined, "I'm sorry."

"You're not broken," Rishid insisted, shifting one hand loose to settle it on Malik's head, stroking his hair, "Ssh, _habibi_ , ssh," He tanged his fingers lightly in Malik's hair, "You've never been broken."

"But Alezl!" Malik moaned.

"Shadow-" Rishid paused, "No, even he doesn't mean you're broken," He resumed combing lightly through Malik's hair, "Surviving doesn't mean you're broken."

* * *

"I've been a dick," Malik flopped down next to Alezl, studying the fishpond, "I've been an utter dick."

"In general, yes," Alezl scooted to the side, letting Malik settle comfortably next to him, "Did something happen with Rishid?"

Malik reached forward to comb his fingers into the water, as soon as he did so the dark fish darted towards him, and he peered at it, "Is that Alelyel?"

"The one and the same," Alezl nodded eagerly, sliding his own hand into the water, "He's my favourite."

"Isn't his-" Malik paused, "I thought he looked different."

Alezl stroked along Alelyel's back, answering aimlessly as he did so, "Oh he probably did; his sumi is changing," He rolled his eyes at Malik, "White patterns," Alezl was right - the patterns of white along the koi's back had changed slightly, that and he seemed a bit smaller than the other koi.

"Is he unwell?"

"Nah," Alezl ran his fingers through Alelyel one final time, before sitting back up, "Kumonryu markings change; I think he's turning a bit pale because the water is different," He paused, "Or his diet is a bit thin," He nudged at Malik's arm, fingertips barely ghosting through, "Maybe we should get them some grapefruit?"

"Grapefruit?"

Alezl nodded enthusiastically, "Grapefuit, or maybe watermelon- when they're bigger we could try oranges."

"Uh," Malik scratched at the back of his neck with his free hand, "I'll look into it?" He peered at Alelyel, and pulled his hand from the water, "Is he supposed to be that small."

"He'll size up soon," Alezl peered at the water, smiling softly, "Kumonryu start life a bit small, but they're fighters. Alelyel is strong," A low snort, "He gets more than his fair share of food, I think he'll be fine."

Nodding slowly, Malik shook his hand out, "Good to know," He cleared his throat out, trying to rinse some emotion from it like a washed out shell in the ocean. All he managed to do was get a slightly dry feeling in his mouth and down his neck, "I'm sorry."

"Practicing for Rishid?" Alezl inquired, still looking into the water with a faint smile.

"No, that one's for you."

"Oh?" Alezl looked up, blinking. His face crumpled in discomfort, "I don't understand."

"I-" Malik swallowed, mouth feeling even more dry, "They talked about me like I wasn't there, or wasn't real," He saw Alezl duck his head, colouring, "I'm sorry I haven't been more attentive to your needs and wants," He nudged Alezl's arm and was shocked to see Alezl scrambling away from him, bristling with suspicion, "I'm sorry-" He inched away from Alezl, eyes widening, "I- -did you want something to eat?" He gestured towards the house, "If you were hungry I mean. I'm not but-"

"If you're not hungry, I won't be," Alezl muttered.

"Oh, right," He coughed, "That makes sense."

"Can we feed the fish?" Alezl nodded towards the pool.

"Sure," Malik reached for the nearby container of fish food he'd taken to leaving at the side, "Help me with their names," He pointed at the yellow fish, "Mesherq?"

"Berteqaley, they're a yamabuki ogon," Alezl stared at Malik's scoop of food, and only when Alezl's frown cleared did Malik begin dropping the food into the pond. At once the familiar dark shape of Alelyel sidled up to nip the pellets from the water, "Alelyel likes you."

Dipping his hand in the water, Malik shrugged, "He likes you; you're the one who knows his name, and reminds me to feed him, come on," Malik waved Alezl towards the water, "Put your hand in too."

* * *

Alezl took to his new found rights with gusto, immediately leaning over Malik from the edge of the bathtub, tapping at the conditioner on the far-edge, "Let's try this one."

"That's Isis’," Malik wrinkled his nose, squirming in the water, "Can you not lean over me?"

Instantly Alezl glanced down into the water, before snapping his head up towards the wall again, laughing as he did so, "Nothing new I think."

Flushing, Malik shooed Alezl, "If I use the stupid hair product, will you sit down and stop fussing?"

"Sure," With that, Alezl settled down, leaning back against the edge of the tub, "How did it go with Rishid anyway?"

"Oh, you know," Malik inspected the container, "Do you think the rinse and repeat is just there to sell more of this stuff?"

"No, I don't know, and... probably."

"Huh," He squeezed out a palmful of product, rubbing it into his damp hair and sliding it through the strands, "It went well, I guess," He scrubbed at his scalp gently, sniffing, "This smells like jasmine."

Alezl shrugged, "I like it."

"You like jasmine, noted," Malik closed his eyes and slid back in the bath to wash the product out. When he came up with a splash, Alezl had flicked round and was now peering at him closely, "Fuck- Alezl," Malik dropped his hands, "Can you not?" Alezl twisted back round, "I guess I should apologize to Isis," He heard Alezl snort dismissively, "What? You don't think so?"

"Hell no," Alezl flung both arms out in a moody gesture, "You know she made an appointment on your behalf? Fuck her."

"She's trying to help."

He crossed his arms over his chest, tutting, "That excuse never works for me, so."

"Point noted."

* * *

That night, Alezl returned to the routine, leaping onto the bed after Malik, and settling in a closely tucked ball at the edge of the bed. It was eerie how familiar that had become, and how soothing it was to see the small ball of tangled hair and tired yawn of teeth next to him. Propping himself up on an elbow, he looked at Alezl with a raised eyebrow, "If I'm not that tired, how are you so tired?"

"Dunno," Alezl opened his eyes halfway, glaring at Malik, "Maybe I think more."

"Maybe you do," Malik grinned, "You've had a bit of a wise day."

"I won't make a habit of it," Alezl shut both eyes again.

"Night then?"

Alezl gave a final yawn, stretching slightly into it, mumbling a garbled "G'night," of his own. With that, Alezl tucked his head into the crook his elbow, and the tensed faintly as he slid contently into sleep. Malik watched the ceiling, for awhile, trying to listen out for the sound of his sister returning, but it didn't come-

Instead, studying the resting curve of Alezl's back, familiar weight of his eyelids and dark of his lashes, Malik found himself considering - perversely - the meaning of life. Or more precisely, the value of it. The way it had changed when Isis had taken him to the surface and shown him what couldn't be theirs. He wouldn't have thought he had much for himself then, after that stolen moment. It had taken more than simply leaving the tombs to find value - purpose - in his life again, or decent purpose. He wrinkled his nose at that. It certainly hadn't been immediate.

He sighed; that Alezl had a right to life had become quickly intuitive, but what sort of life was a much more desperate train of thought. Did he have a right to a _quality_ of life? Did anyone?

His thoughts clattered together, hooking into each other like a string of cars on a highway, _probably_ , giving way to _yes, but that raises complications_.

Huffing quietly, Malik reached out with a slow hand, brushing at Alezl's fringe and feeling the shape of him give way like there was nothing there. Still, he persisted, stroking along the curve of his face, slipping through the edges of him at times, but finding the boundaries all the same. He tested each fence between them, cupping Alezl's cheek in the dark, and finally, heart snarling somewhere at the back of his throat, brushed a kiss to Alezl's forehead.

* * *

Malik woke up, tangled in Alezl who had curled into him, face pressing against - and even at points, into - Malik's chest. He skimmed an awkward hand at Alezl's head, peering round towards the window. A bar of light irritated his eyes and he blinked against it. The daylight was a russian gold, barred in coppers and set against the shadows. Outside, he could hear the faint silence that came with midday. Immediately, he looked over Alezl's head at the alarm clock on his dresser. He'd never once set the alarm, finding himself unsuited to habit, but perhaps an alarm was a long time coming; it was almost one o'clock.

"Hey," He nudged at Alezl, fingers falling through the permeable shape of him, "Alezl," Something shifted in his mind and he nudged at Alezl again, pressing against him mentally.

Alezl unwound slowly, stretching out in a thorough flash of teeth, his yawn coming out in a creaking purr as his muscles unlocked, "Morning."

"Afternoon, I think," Malik watched Alezl finish stretching out, movements fluid and dazedly slow. It was like watching a cat form out of a ripple of metal, each slight movement building layers of alertness, but never enough. Finally, Alezl lay splayed out on his side, watching Malik half-lidded in the low light, teeth a faint glint in his mouth.

"Can we stay in bed?" Alezl asked with a lethargy that hummed out of him, rolling off him in a sweet, lazy wave.

Malik laughed gently, eyes falling shut with a half-hearted shrug, the entire movement limp, "For a bit, sure," He let himself settle back on the bed, tucking close to Alezl with a yawn, "Not forever."

"Mhh," Alezl sounded disagreeable, wriggling slightly and furling a little tighter, "We'll see."

* * *

"I don't think they know what grapefuit is yet," Alezl laughed fondly, watching the fish approach the grapefuit chunks, but not hesitate to eat them. Malik popped the last of the fruit into the water, "Put your hand in so they know it's okay to eat," Leaning forward, Malik ran his hand into the water, and watched Alelyel sidle towards a nearby piece, "Alelyel is clever," Alezl grinned into the water, "Look at him; Mesherq will be mad if he eats everything."

"They're fish," Malik wriggled his fingers slowly in the water, as Alelyel inhaled a piece of fruit with a steady gulp, "I don't think they have the brains to be upset with each other."

Alezl rolled his eyes, sliding both his hands into the water, "That's because you don't know them like I do."

He looked at Alezl sidelong, "I've literally been here every time you've fed them."

"So?" Alezl tipped his head to get a better look at Alelyel's sumi, "I've been with you since you were ten, and I don't get a lot of things; would it be so bad if I got to know more about fish?" He grinned at Malik, eyes wide and a bit uneven, swishing his hand through the water, "Do you know their names yet?"

Shifting closer to the pool, Malik narrowed his eyes at the gathered fish, "Alelyel, Rayh, Selhefah, Qetam-"

"Memlh," Alezl corrected.

"Fine, then that one has to be Qetam," Malik pointed at another fish, "Which one's Alasemak?"

"That one."

"Alright, okay and that's Berteqaley, who I maintain is not orange but actually yellow."

Alezl cackled, "If it matters that much to you, you should have named them first."

"Mesherq is over there, and the spotty one is Resdet."

"Figure that one out on your own, did you?" Alezl drawled, tapping Malik with his elbow. Alongside it came a brief tap to Malik's mind, like someone patting the back of his head.

"Hey," Malik glared at Alezl, "You're the one who named him Spotted."

"I dare you to find a more apt name," Alezl pointed out, he brushed at Mesherq with an idle hand, "I read that Kohaku grow fast, but it's odd to see it," He bit his lip, "Maybe I should increase their diet..."

He looked up at Malik uncertainly, who shrugged in answer, "They're your fish."

Grinning down at them, Alezl squirmed on the spot, "They're Isis’."

"I haven't seen her feed them once, or even look at them," Malik shrugged, "I think she feels they were an annoying gift actually."

"She should look at them," Alezl frowned, eyebrows lowering into a dangerous glare, "Even if she didn't like the gift."

Malik shrugged, "Yeah, I-"

"We should eat the rest of the figs," Alezl got to his feet with a flourish of his hands, "They were looking good."

* * *

Malik nibbled at a fig, head resting in the palm of one hand. In front of him, sat the slip of paper Isis had left the other day, and Alezl was glaring at it from his seat across from Malik, "You'll burn a hole in it like this."

"Let me," Alezl grumbled, flopping across the table in a tangle of arms, "She should just stay out of this, I think!" He groaned, "When she has to put up with that therapy crap, she can pick and mix her own stuff."

"It's not crap," Malik took a bite of the dried fruit, chewing slowly. He swallowed, rapping his knuckles on the table to get Alezl's wandering attention again. Again he tapped at what he'd determined was probably the edges of Alezl's mind. Alezl looked up at him from his place sprawled over the table, "Therapy's actually been a huge help."

"That why you been through so many therapists," Alezl blew a strand of his fringe out of the way, looking at Malik skeptically.

Setting his chin in both hands, Malik smirked across the table at Alezl, "I think I'm a lot for them to take in," He snorted, "And we've already seen what they make of you."

Alezl shrugged, "I slept through most of that."

"You didn't miss much."

"So," Alezl rolled his shoulders, sitting up again as he did so, "If that's the case, how's it actually helping you?"

Malik plucked up another fig, turning it this way and that before popping it into his mouth. He swallowed round it, watching Alezl smile absently at the flavour, "In bits and pieces mostly, but it has been, so," He tapped at the piece of paper, "What do we do about this?"

"I imagine we do whatever you want?"

He sighed, pushing the slip of paper in Alezl's direction, "I'm asking you what you want to do."

Alezl waved a hand dismissively, "You'll still do whatever you want to about it."

"We could vote on it?" Malik suggested and Alezl rolled his eyes, snorting even more dismissively.

"And if one votes yes and one votes no, how do we tiebreaker that?" He settled back on the table, "More. Eat another fig," Obligingly, Malik picked another up, popping it into his mouth, chewing about it, "This isn't a democracy Malik."

"Hm," Malik swallowed, sitting up in his spot, "Alright then, we'll do what you decide."

Alezl squinted, hands gripping the edge of the table, before gritting out, "I don't believe you," He glared at Malik, "I refuse to decide," Malik shrugged, indicating the figs and Alezl nodded, movement stiff, "Why are you asking me?"

"It's not a trick," Malik picked up a fig, nibbling at it, "So you know."

"That's a suspiciously specific denial," Alezl muttered.

"You asked me if it was a trick."

"I did not-" Alezl paused, before admitting, "I am thinking it."

"Yeah, well," Malik took a bite, "It's not a trick."

"Well then, I think we should murder Rishid and Isis in their sleep."

Malik flinched, but eyed Alezl firmly, "Don't be facetious."

"I'm being completely serious," Alezl growled, "Have you seen anyone as serious as me? Kill your family, go on, we can use a kitchen knife, we can drown them in the pond-"

"Alezl," Malik snapped, "Do you want to go to therapy or not?"

"I don't know!" Alezl flailed, gesturing widely at himself, "Do you seriously think I'd know?"

That drew Malik back, toying with his hands, "I didn't mean to put you on the spot, you don't need to know right away," He sighed, "Just let me know once you've made a-"

"It's not that," Alezl thumped a hand on the table, and it was odd to see the violent gesture with the accompanying noise, "This is an important decision; why are you asking me of all people?"

"Therapy is about fixing my head, and you live in here too," Malik tapped at his skull in demonstration, mind tapping at Alezl's. That time he felt a distinctive brushing gesture, like Alezl was shooing at the contact, "How you feel about it matters."

"I-" Alezl seemed to have frozen, opening and closing his mouth in a remarkable imitation of his own koi, "I don't want to be poked and prodded at."

"Then we don't need to get back to therapy," Malik nodded, "See that's-"

"But if it helps you, maybe we should?" Alezl looked at Malik sidelong, "What do you think?" His expression turned plaintive, "For... advice?"

Relenting, Malik nodded, "I don't want to rule it out, but I think we should sort you and me out before we revisit the idea."

"That sounds good," Alezl jabbed a finger in Malik's direction, "Let's do what you said."

"Sleep on it?"

"For like a year," Alezl added enthusiastically, "We can just sleep on it for ages," He tilted his head, grin returning, "More."

Malik looked down at the small plate of dried figs, before picking two up and cramming them into his mouth, "That suit?" He questioned round a mouthful of fruit, and Alezl rested his head in his folded arms.

" _More_ ," Alezl purred, shutting his eyes and squirming happily in his seat.

* * *

"So you like the smell of jasmine, sweet food," Malik adjusted the tub of halawa tehiniya in his lap, holding up a spoonful with a rueful expression, "And...?"

Alezl pointed towards the water, "Alelyel," Then paused, "I like the others too."

"Nishikigoi in general?" Malik steeled himself for the sweet taste of the halva, and licked at the spoon a little reluctantly, "Are you sure you don't want this on some bread or..."

"Nope," Alezl dipped a hand into the pond, "This is good."

"Ugh," Malik scooped another spoonful of halva, "You're killing my perfect body- our perfect body. Whatever, you're ruining it."

"You're ruining my appetite-"

"How can you even have one!"

Alezl held his spare hand up to his mouth, shushing Malik, "Don't scare Alelyel off," Twirling his other hand in the water, Alezl smirked down at the fish, "Hello-" He looked up at Malik with large eyes, " _More_ ," He whined, scowling meanly at Malik.

"No," Malik tossed the container of halva to the side, "I can't eat another bite, I'm done, my blood is almost entirely sugar and I probably have diabetes."

"There's like half a perfectly good container to eat!" Alezl complained, staring at Malik with a miserable expression.

"What?" Malik yelped, "You wanted to eat _all_ of it?"

" _More_ ," Alezl demanded hopefully, "Please?" There was a lingering nudge from Alezl's mind and Malik batted at the feeling, "Malik," He whinged, "I really like this."

Grabbing at his stomach, Malik glared at Alezl, "There's no room left!"

"Make room!"

* * *

Malik stepped into the kitchen, Alezl following close behind him and sidled up to Rishid, "Hey," He mumbled, fiddling with the towel in his arms. Nervousness clustered somewhere in the balls of his feet, and he shifted from one to the other like blotting paper was tacked against his feet.

"Hey yourself, _habibi_ ," Rishid stirred the pot, one hand reaching out to brush at Malik's hair, not turning away from the stove. The gesture was sweet and Malik leaned into it with a hungry hum, "Dinner won't be ready until later," He looked briefly away from the stove to study Malik's half-hazed expression, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," Malik chuckled, "I don't know how I got so tired."

"Stress, maybe."

"Maybe," Malik scuffed a foot at the ground in thought, "I was wondering when sis was due home."

"Hm," Another clunk as the spoon tapped the side of the pot, "Do you mean when she said she'd be home, or when she will be home?"

He laughed gently, "The second, please."

Rishid nodded to himself, smiling quietly, "Not too late, before midnight I expect," He shook out the utensil, setting it on the edge of the pot, and turned to look at Malik head-on, "I've already spoken to her about her behaviour."

Alezl scowled from the corner of Malik's vision, "I don't think she'd see the wrong in it," Malik tried cautiously, and Alezl threw his hands up in disgust, eyes rolling.

"No; Isis has always been stubborn."

"Mh," Malik fidgeted, "I was thinking I'd apologize to her, I don't feel I should have to or anything," He sighed, "I guess I wouldn't really mean it? I just don't want to fight with her," He wriggled his fingers in illustration, "She gets all tactful and passive and - urgh."

"I understand," Rishid moved away from the stove, leaning against the counter and folding his arms over his chest, " _Habibi_ ," He began sternly, and Malik shrank slightly, grinning nervously, "If there is ever anything wrong, or just anything you want to talk to me about, know I will not judge you, and I will not assert my will over yours," Rishid stared at him, expression changing in unreadable twists, "I am and will always be safe ground for you to find strength."

"I-" Malik's eyes drifted to the left, catching on Alezl for barely a moment, "What makes you think something is wrong?"

Rishid shrugged, turning towards dinner again, "When you are ready to talk, please let me in, brother."

"Fuck off," Alezl muttered, and Malik flushed, ducking his head towards Rishid.

"I understand."

"Good," Rishid stirred dinner slowly, "Go rest, _habibi_."

Malik nodded tersely in response, leaving the kitchen and hurrying towards the bathroom with quickening steps. As soon as the door was safely closed, and the taps set off, the sound gushing and filling the space, he rounded on Alezl.

"Don't tell my brother to fuck off," He snapped.

Alezl held both hands up in front of him, "What the fuck?"

"Do not tell my brother to fuck off," Malik repeated, eyes blazing and lip curled slightly.

"It's not like he can hear me!"

"That's no good reason to-" He groaned, turning away from Alezl and yanking his shirt over his head, "Rishid does-" He grabbed at his belt, unsnapping it a little too ferociously, each movement rigid and unforgiving, "So much for me- for us both, so hold your tongue or I swear I'll bite it off."

"That a promise?" Alezl cocked his head, and Malik froze, jeans somewhere about his thighs.

"Fuck you," Malik decided, kicking the rest of his clothing off and heading for the water, grimacing at the heat.

* * *

Isis had not gotten in before midnight, not even before the early morning, and Malik had waited in the living room with only Alezl for company. At first they had taken to toying with the new mental taps - Alezl had been astounded by it, and dug something eagerly into wherever the edges of Malik were. It had felt like being tapped on the shoulder, only placed somewhere behind his eyeball, and the entire feeling had him blinking and rubbing at both eyes. In fairness, that might have been exhaustion.

"Our sleep is gonna be fucked up," Alezl yawned, "I should just sleep whilst we wait."

"If you're going to be with me for the rest of my life, I hope you don't plan on just rolling over and napping that whole time," Malik answered frostily, flicking through channels.

"Well if I'm gonna be stuck with you for the rest of my life, I hope you don't nag like this the whole time," Alezl answered with a snort, stretching out on the sofa. It was funny how much space he took when he was awake, limbs claiming space even without tangibility, but as soon as he fell asleep, Alezl curled into a small ball, taking up such a small place in the universe.

Malik chose to ignore Alezl's statement, "It's so late; is she even coming home tonight?" He turned his head to peer round Alezl at a clock on the wall, "Hm?"

"We should go to bed," Alezl told Malik, and Malik's attention snapped back to Alezl. Eye-contact. Inches away- and yet the familiar nausea didn't quite come up, only mustering a slightly untidy feeling somewhere in Malik's throat, "Malik?"

The feeling flourished, discomfort catching in Malik's chest.

"You're right," Malik stood up quickly, stabbing at the remote and hurrying away from the couch, "Bed sounds good. Sis can wait for tomorrow."

Staggering to his feet, Alezl darted straight through the couch, "Malik? What's the hurry?" By then, Malik had already slammed the door to his room shut, and Alezl growled under his breath, stalking after him and sliding through the door, "I'm pretty sure that was rude," Malik shrugged, already settling into bed and facing away from Alezl, who after a long and annoyed sigh, hopped after him onto the bed and curled up with a yawn, "Night...?"

"Night," Malik replied abruptly, and Alezl blinked, brushing at Malik's mind cautiously. Malik thwacked back, and Alezl reeled away with a huff. Peering at Malik with a queer expression, Alezl finally rolled over, facing away from Malik. He lay still, listening to Alezl's breathing quickly even out - it seemed like sleep came so much easier without blood and cells clamouring for attention, or perhaps Alezl simply didn't have trouble with it.

Slowly, Malik turned towards Alezl, studying the tense coil of his back. It was possible Alezl was manipulating him, but even as Malik turned the possibility over in his head once more, it seemed unlikely. Alezl hadn't shown much subtlety in Battle City, and arguably less in the past months. He wasn't subtle, even his attempts at manipulation were blunt-force threats. Alezl was, well. He was bratty. Absolutely ineloquent. Obsessive about his fish apparently, and had no self-control; he probably would have eaten the entire container of halawa tehiniya if it had been up to him.

"Passionate, a little wild, terrible jokes," Malik stretched out on his back, mumbling under his breath, "Sweet," He ground his teeth, "Childish brat."

He ran his fingers through his fringe, sighing under his breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

* * *

"Isis didn't come in last night," Alezl noted, plopping down next to Malik with a yawn, immediately he leaned over to dip a hand in the water, "What's for breakfast?"

Malik brandished a bowl full of fruit, "Grapefruit; we're sharing with the fishes today."

"Fish," Alezl corrected.

"Fuck off."

Alezl laughed at that, leaning against and into Malik, smile bubbling over into a hapless grin, "You're so sweet on me, Malik," He placed the remaining hand in the water, wriggling his fingers, "Resdet and Mesherq look so strong today, look at them!" Alezl nudged Malik with his shoulder, half-curving into Malik, "They know what the fruit is today," He leaned forward to smirk at the fish, clawing through their backs, "Clever little things, feed them Malik?"

Gently, Malik dropped the pieces of grapefruit into the lake and then placed his hand in the water as the fish nipped up the fruit. Alezl settled back on his heels, head cocked at the scene. Malik stopped watching the fish, instead looking at Alezl staring in fascination at the nishikigoi.

"They're such clever things," He murmured, off-balance grin fading to a gentle smile, and the clawing of his fingers seemed more eager than vicious, its edges softened.

"Why do you like them?" The words came tumbling out of Malik before he'd considered them, as usual, his mouth rushing ahead of his mind.

"Aren't people responsible for the things they name?" Alezl brushed at Rayh's sumi, "I thought that was how it worked. Why else did everything happen the way it did to us?"

Malik ignored the urgent emotion, pressing at the boundaries of Alezl's question, and at his ribs, "So you like them because you control them?"

"Not really," Alezl shrugged, "They swim anywhere they want, and eat what they like. It's not like we make them come over to be fed."

"They need to be fed, though," Malik wriggled his fingers in the cool water, "And they can't leave the pond."

Alezl pulled his hands from the water, folding them shyly in his lap, "I don't know if freedom requires detachment."

After a moment, Malik pulled his own hand from the water, wiping the water at the back of his neck to cool the heat. He looked at Alezl with a guarded expression, "So you like them because they need you?"

"Need keeps things close to me, yes," Alezl nodded, shifting away from Malik, "They're clever too, I can see them learning every day; what's good to eat, where the sunny parts are..."

Malik fidgeted, "There's more than one way to keep people close, though. Sometimes they want you around."

"Ah," Alezl leaned over to look into the water, "But who'd want me?"

"You really don't have good esteem, do you?" Malik scoffed, "You seemed like a guy brimming with confidence; I'm honestly shocked."

"I know what I'm good at," Alezl corrected, voice a fine and delicate criticism, "It's different."

"I suppose you aren't easy to want," Malik conceded.

Alezl nodded, laughing to himself, "Well I don't really care about being wanted - I fill a need," He fell quiet, ruefully playing with the edge of the water, "Filled a need; all I'm really good at these days is minding the fish. Their needs are pretty simple, which is what I'm used to."

"Needs are simple in general, it's want that's a complete mess," Malik leaned his head on his knees, "I needed to be a tombkeeper, and that was easy, in the end. At least easy to understand. I wanted revenge, but that sure turned into a disaster."

"I see," Alezl murmured, sliding a hand into the water, "What do you want these days, Malik?"

"Peace," The word came out of him in a single, solid breath of relief. Just saying it undid the tightness in his chest, and made his head feel light.

Alezl slumped slightly, hand tangling in the water, "I see," He swallowed, "Can I help you-"

"What do you want?"

"Me?" Alezl blinked weakly, opening his mouth and then closing it again with a rough swallow.

"Like I said, I haven't been very attentive to your needs and wants," Malik shrugged, "You've mostly bothered me about food and television and little wants, I guess I'm just-"

Malik watched as Alezl jerked to his feet, snarling and glaring at Malik, "Are we still pretending you give one damn about that?" Alezl hissed, "Knock it off. It was fun for a bit, but-"

"But what?" Malik folded his arms over his chest, "Why don't you believe me?"

"You don't _need_ me," Alezl flung a hand out, "You don't _want_ me," He pulled the hand in to hit his own chest in demonstration, "So why are you bothering when you can just ignore me whenever you want?!"

"Because that's a dick move!" Malik retorted.

"Well you're a dick, go right ahead!" Alezl rolled his eyes, one hand tossing the cloak he'd long stopped wearing, "Ignore me, stop _teasing_ me, you jerk, you piece of shit, you-"

"I'm not teasing you," Malik clambered to his feet, trying to glare Alezl down, "If you're staying, the least I can do is stop treating you like you don't exist."

"Well, I don't exist!"

"How would you know that?" Malik demanded.

"And how would you?" Alezl backed off, teeth bared, "Stop it, just stop it. I don't want to have anything to do with you."

"You need me."

Alezl froze in place, hands tightened into fists.

"You need me," Malik repeated, taking a cautious step towards Alezl. A shiver ran through Alezl, and Malik halted, "I'm responsible for you."

"I don't exist," Alezl ducked his head to the side, refusing to make eye-contact, "Doesn't matter how you treat me."

"What if you do though?"

The eye-contact was back, hazy and nervous and that definitely wasn't nausea in Malik's stomach, that was guilt, "What if I what?"

"Exist?" Malik inclined his head, "If you do, then I shouldn't act like you don't, and if you don't-" He shrugged, "What does it matter if I act like you do?" He snorted, "Besides, for someone who doesn't exist, you sure get upset a lot," He took another step towards Alezl, and offered his hand gently, "I'm sorry, I know we haven't got the best history behind us, but if I can put that in the past, can you at least try to trust me?"

Alezl made to reach out, before snapping his hand back and glaring at Malik, "Why should I? You don't trust me; I can't even prove myself."

"Sure you can," Malik grinned, "Take my hand, sit down and eat breakfast with me."

"I can't take your hand..."

"It's the thought that counts," Alezl moved his hand forward again, mind brushing at Malik's as their fingers skimmed through each other. Satisfied, Malik drew back slightly, and Alezl followed, until they were both sitting down by the pond. Malik picked at a piece of grapefuit, "I don't think this is going to be to your favourite food; it's kinda' sour. I wasn't expecting it to taste so bitter. It's like murder in my mouth, really."

"Do you like it?" Alezl sidled closer to look at it, smirking at Malik.

"Well," Malik turned the piece over in the air, and eyed Alezl, "It's growing on me."

* * *

Malik splayed out across the couch, legs over Rishid's lap, "I think sis works too hard," He declared as he hooked his arms behind his head, gazing at the ceiling, "I wanted to apologize to her, but I think she's avoiding me."

"I suspect she is," Rishid agreed mildly, "Your sister cares about you a great deal."

"Mh," He sighed, shutting his eyes, "I know. I just wish she expressed it better," With that Malik rolled off Rishid, getting to his feet with a thorough stretch, "Well I'm gonna grab some dinner, and head to bed," Rishid made to get up and Malik waved a hand, "It's alright, I can fix it myself- did you want anything?" He nudged Alezl's mind firmly, and Alezl who was sitting by Rishid's feet, turned to look up at Malik.

"I'm fine, _habibi_ ," Rishid leaned back in his spot, as Alezl got up and trotted after Malik.

"Halva?" Alezl suggested, and Malik looked down at his stomach, "Or just some fruit," Alezl added hurriedly.

In the end, Malik ended up nibbling at a peach, and looked across the table at Alezl, "So, how much white can a kamehameha get?"

"A kami-" Alezl's face furrowed, "A what?"

"Alelyel."

"Kumonryu," Alezl shrugged, "They can go pure white, the book said."

"Hm," Malik tore off another chunk of peach, "Looks like he's going that way."

"Might be," Alezl shrugged, "We just added fruit to his diet; maybe he'll turn dark again."

"At the moment his name doesn't exactly make sense," Malik chuckled, biting at the peach. He rubbed a trickle of juice away from his face, "So anyways, why do you like Alelyel best?"

"He's the friendliest," Alezl nodded at the peach, "More, oh-" Alezl flopped across the table, "Also when we got him he was the only dark fish, so he was the shadow of the group, and he's growing slowly so, I just like him," Malik took a ferocious bite of fruit, swallowing it before taking another one, and Alezl looked up at Malik, head tipping, "So which do you like best?"

"Oh," Malik swallowed, "I guess the blueish one? Qetam?" Alezl nodded, "Yeah, Qetam. He looks interesting. I guess that's not a very good reason."

"It's fine; nishikigoi are meant to be attractive to look at. Like a living painting."

Malik looked at Alezl over the peach, raising an eyebrow, "Are they?"

"It was all in that book," Alezl's eyes rolled, his quiet expressions quirking faintly with annoyance, "Was I the only one who read it?" A pause, "I so was."

"Don't be boastful."

"I just know what I'm good at," Alezl smiled, "There's a difference."

* * *

"You know," Malik announced as he adjusted the lay of the covers. He kicked at the sheets, punched at the pillow and finally wriggled in to sleep, "I think this could work."

Alezl flopped onto his side, peering at Malik, "What could work?"

"We could work," Malik replied, as though stating something almost too obvious, "We get along okay."

Rolling into a more comfortable position, Alezl arched an eyebrow, "You're basing that on...?" He sounded dubious, stretching out in a single line of movement.

"Not our introduction, no, but if we don't immediately have the ability to kill each other, we seem to get along okay."

"Okay," Alezl snorted, "And I was never trying to kill you. You were trying to kill me, actually."

"But you tried to kill Rishid," Malik countered.

"But I didn't," Alezl purred, stretching one more time, he paused, looking at Malik quaintly, "The Millennium Rod hurt," He stated after a minute, "I think."

"What do you mean?" Malik stared over at Alezl.

"It was-" Alezl brushed a hand by his forehead, rubbing at it, "It's a lot easier to think without it. Like a headache that's finally gone away," Alezl shifted in the shadows of the room, "I think I kept it away from you, because I think it hurt, but I don't remember too well..." He trailed off, and then coughed, "I- I wanted you to know."

"Are you trying to make excuses for your behaviour?" Malik asked harshly, moving away from Alezl.

"No, I- that wasn't-" Alezl ducked his head, "I'd still have done what I did, I think, so I'm not making excuses."

"What's the point of me knowing this?" Malik snapped.

"I thought it changed me," Alezl mumbled, "Not having that feeling-" He looked off to the side, "I think I know when it's okay to kill and when it isn't now."

"Which is never."

"Nevermind," Alezl decdied, curling his arm over his face and snuggling into it, "G'night," Squinting at Alezl, Malik reached out to run his fingertips along Alezl's hair, and in the darkness, Alezl's eyes snapped open, "...Yes?"

Malik yanked his hand back, an electrical undercurrent humming in his nerves, "Nothing," Alezl's gleaming eyes narrowed, "Good night then."

"Good night..." Alezl murmured, snuggling back into his arm with a toothy yawn. Within a few minutes, his breathing had evened out, but the static threading through Malik's veins stayed crisp and sharp, and Malik found himself drifting into sleep only when the hours had drawn thin.

* * *

Malik felt his entire body avoiding waking up, each part of him avoiding it, every inch of him whining and whimpering at the circadian rhythm's insistent nudging. Between his eyelashes, he saw Alezl blinking at him with a grimace, "Shizu," Alezl yawned, curling into a tight ball, one arm thrown across his face.

Malik lay there, eyelids fluttering shut whenever his focus failed, "Isis’ home?"

"Mh," Alezl squeezed his eyes shut, "Y'wanted to...?"

Malik wanted to apologize to Isis; he hadn't seen her for more than two days, and even if it was, "All of her fault anyway," Malik curled in closely, fussing on the bed until he was pressed into a tight ball against Alezl. There was a tired, lazy nudge at his mind, like fingertips curling through his skull, "Alezl?" He opened his eyes to find Alezl's nose almost brushing at his.

"Be the better person," Alezl didn't even try to stifle his yawn, eyes disfocused from exhaustion, "Why're we so tired?" Again there was a shift against Malik's mind, like sand sliding in an hourglass. Another set of thoughts curled in tight to his own.

"I dunno," Malik murmured, and the thoughts kicked at him, lightly, shoving him awake. He shoved back, and Alezl whined, "I don't wanna get up."

"Yes y'do," Alezl muttered, "Y' love being awake. All alert and tangible and things..." There was a swallow, like a cracked twig underfoot, "I don't think you'll ever give me what I want."

"You never know," Finally, Malik stirred, looking down at Alezl and rubbing at his eyes. The urge to fall back into the bed was more demanding with every second pretending to be awake, "If you don't ask."

"Go apologize to your sister," Alezl covered his face, rolling onto his back, "Get out of here, meet you by the fish... later."

Reluctantly, Malik carded a hand through his own hair, before brushing it at Alezl's. Rolling his eyes, he made to tousle it, fingers falling through him. With that, Malik practically fell out of bed, legs tripping under him as he made for the kitchen. He'd expected to find Isis in there, hands shaking over a cup of coffee and deep rings under her eyes, but she was nowhere in sight. Exhausted, Malik grabbed a fresh peach, squeezing it- he set it back, snagged another one and tumbled into the garden. Every step felt sleep-loose and not entirely stable.

"Good morning, Malik," Malik dully blinked at Isis, peach halfway to his mouth. Isis was standing by the pond, the bowl of fish pellets in her hand and looking down into the water. He tried to gather himself, hoarding a small pack of almost lies, and platitudes.

"I'm sorry, about the other day, I reacted, when" It spilled out, but Isis shushed him.

"Think nothing of it," She squinted at the water, one hand palming at the pellets.

"I wanted you to know."

"It's okay," Isis picked up a handful of koi pellets, "I couldn't blame you for it."

Malik had the insistent urge to scream at her again, but instead nodded at her handful of food, "That's not enough. They need more or they'll fight over them."

"I didn't think this one would be needing it," Isis gestured at the pond, and Malik looked into it to see Mesherq half-rolled in the water, the delicate orange of his sumi looking a bit worse for wear, "It looks like he choked on-" Malik's eyes flicked towards Mesherq's mouth, and the fin protruding from it, "One of the others. I was going to have Rishid fish them out. But in the meantime, I didn't think the others would need as much."

"No they won't," Malik agreed, looking over the pond. Hurriedly, he counted the fish in the pond, "Resdet, Qetam," A bright flash of yellow, "Berteqaley," He tapped at his fingers, "Rayh...oh no Memlh, Alasemak," Already he had a sinking feeling inside him, like his heart was a stone settling at the base of his blood, "Selhefah," His gaze returned to Mesherq.

The pale fin sticking out of Mesherq's mouth, "Alelyel."

The sinking feeling grounded, spread somewhere between dread and uncertainty.

"Are those their names?" Isis asked quietly, face a little puzzled.

Quietly, Malik crouched by the pond, dipping his hand into the water and nudging at Mesherq, "This one was Mesherq, and," He frowned, "It looks like this one was Alelyel."

"I didn't know you were so attached to them."

Isis dropped the pellets back into the bowl, crouching down next to Malik delicately, and he chuckled, "I'm not, actually," Belatedly, he shoved at Alezl's mind, pulling him awake with not half the gentleness he wanted to. He could feel Isis rubbing his shoulder in query, and smiled bluntly at her, "If it's alright, could I have a moment to myself?" The notion of Malik having time to himself was laughable, but he gave Alezl another tap, this one more restrained. Urgent, but soothing.

Alezl fizzled into existence next to Malik, eyes rounded and leaning forward over the pond to stare at the grisly display of fish. He crouched down, moving slowly as though afraid of his bones snapping like a delicate sapling pulled tight in the wind.

"I have to go to work; I'm sorry about the fish," Isis patted Malik's back, before walking away, and Alezl flinched at the shared sensation, back curving. The time it took for Isis to leave, and for Malik to be certain she had left, had his pulse ready to bolt, stamping and punching into his skin. He bit his lip, glancing back towards the house, and then edged closer to Alezl.

"Alezl," Malik murmured, trying to catch his eye, "Are you okay?"

It was a long time before Alezl spoke, shifting in his spot, and voice sounding small, almost abandoned in Alezl's throat.

"Eating people is wrong."

Swallowing his laughter as quickly and as best he could, Malik ducked his head, "Well, you're not wrong," Malik waited a moment, before taking a heavy inhale, "Alezl- what do you want to do?"

Alezl was still staring into the water, eyes flashing over the rest of the pond for a moment, "Alelyel..." He mumbled.

"I think so," Malik tried to hook an arm around Alezl, but found himself swiping through his shoulders, so he returned his hand to his lap. He looked over at Alezl carefully, studying the slack expression; this wouldn't be how he'd imagine death to affect Alezl, but then what was Malik's father to Alezl? Not half as worthy as two fish, "Alezl, are you okay?"

He gritted his teeth, "No, I don't think so," Shook his head, "Leave me alone, or I'll... I'll..." The threat fell out on the floor, incomplete and unnecessary, as Malik moved to get to his feet. He hovered by Alezl, still crouched by the pond.

"I'll be back later," He promised finally, insistently leaning forward to kiss Alezl's cheek in some kind of pathetic reassurance. Alezl made no acknowledgement, and it wasn't as though something tactile had been exchanged. Malik could have been brushing his lips to thin air for the reaction it showed, and he got to his feet self-consciously, "Bye?" He took a step away, then another, and found himself walking into the kitchen in search of some strong coffee.

* * *

It had been awhile since Malik had taken his bike out, too wary by half to use it. Isis and Rishid had been circumspect; normally he picked Isis up from work, but Rishid had taken over doing that. Even now Malik noticed the runaround bike he'd repaired for Rishid had been taken out, not a word used to bother Malik. As for his own bike, she was settled in a corner, cleaned recently and her service papers left at Malik's worktop. He studied them for a moment, bouncing the keys in his hand, before setting her up and checking her lines.

"You're looking good, girl," He cooed half-heartedly, propping the bike against his side as he pulled his gloves on. They were new, and the leather was tight on his hands, "Remind me to thank Rishid," Malik shook his head, "I still don't know how I deserve his love..." The word love clung to his tongue, and he licked his lips. He shook his head again, giving his bike once more once-over, before taking off away from the house.

He hadn't been out of the house much beyond the unavoidable since Alezl and he had started talking regularly. He supposed that was unhealthy, and made a mental note to get out more. But right now, he needed air, sharp on his face and in his lungs, the whip of his hair on his face. He considered forgoing his helmet, but given the last time he'd ridden a bike, and ended up on the burning asphalt, he quickly tossed the idea away.

"Just like riding a bike," Malik joked to himself, as he set off. The saying wasn't perfect, obviously, he felt rusty and uneasy, but there was the cool snarl of air on his face, the feeling of time and distance threading under his fingertips, the vague knowledge he could just keep driving. Could drive away from Rishid and Isis and never turn back, could drive away from everything-

But not Alezl.

He could drive as far as he liked, but the only way to escape Alezl probably involved a bullet in the brainpan. Even then, who knew what would happen to Alezl in another life.

Malik skidded to a slightly uneven stop in front of the museum, manhandling his bike to a shaded spot. He'd driven here more out of habit than anything else, too exhausted to do anything other than follow a familiar route. Still, it couldn't hurt to address his half-finished apology to Isis whilst he was here, and Isis’ assistant made some good coffee. That decided, Malik trotted round the side of the building, squinting slightly in the light and all too glad to have applied kohl that morning. Squeezing past tourists, he darted up the steps, and strolled into the entrance hall.

"Afternoon Rajih," Malik greeted, fingers tapping on the counter.

The slightly sour receptionist looked up at him, gaze looking him up and down, as he tapped Isis’ extension into the phoneline. His eyes caught on Malik's jewellery - they always caught on Malik's jewellery - as if calculating the carats. Malik was pretty sure Rajih didn't stare at Isis’ finery the way he did at Malik's.

"Ookay," Malik almost rolled his eyes, but strolled away from reception to inspect a nearby display. Automatically, he took to translating the demotic under his breath, and compared it to the translation on the card holder.

"Excuse me?" He turned to see a slightly sunburnt tourist, gesturing at the display and repeating the request in some of the worst arabic Malik had occasioned to hear.

He stepped aside, replying in English, "Sorry."

"Oh you speak English!" The tourist perked up, and Malik raised an eyebrow, a smirk settling on his face, "Oh I guess that's obvious."

"Well I might only know the word sorry," Malik suggested, laughing under his breath, "Don't bother with the reading though," He tapped at the official translation, "I'll need to have my sister correct it," He looked expectantly towards the reception, but Isis hadn't appeared, and so turned back to the tourist, shrugging, "Here for a holiday then?" The tourist arched an eyebrow in return, and Malik laughed into his hand, "Stupid question, sorry."

"Don't be," The tourist smiled at him, "Jacob, by the way," He offered a hand to Malik, "Usually just called JJ though."

"Malik," He paused, looking at the hand, "You should try the other hand," He suggested, offering his right hand, and grinning lightly, "People here think the left hand is unclean, might be offensive."

"That explains-" JJ cut off, switching hands, "Thank you."

"No problem," Malik shrugged, taking the hand. As usual he found the handshake a bit firm for his liking, but continued through, "How do you like Egypt anyway?"

JJ looked a touch sheepish, letting go of Malik's hand, and grinning at him, "It's a bit hot."

"Ah," Malik snorted, "Most tourists say that; I'm inclined to say it myself."

"I bet you are," JJ nodded and Malik squinted, but JJ simply gestured towards the plaque, "So you read Egyptian?" He laughed awkwardly, "I guess a lot of locals must be able to, that's probably a stupid question."

"Well obviously not as well as they should," Malik eyed the translation again, "My family was big on the traditional stuff, it's a long story."

"I've got a long time," JJ shrugged, taking a step towards him.

Malik paused, humming uncertainly, "I mean it's a boring story," He decided, "Nothing too interesting at all."

"I don't know," JJ looked Malik up and down as Rajih had down moments ago, this time Malik flushed, "I can't think there's anything boring about you."

"Uh," Malik hedged, looking back at the artefact, "I could translate this if you'd like...?"

"That sounds good," JJ nodded, peering at Malik, and reached out to brush at Malik's hair, "Is that natural?"

"Um. Yes."

"It looks good, very exotic, especially with your skin," One of Malik's eyes twitched at that, but JJ's hand moved to toy with one of Malik's earring, "So what does the pot say?"

"Uh..." Malik blinked, feeling like his muscles had liquidated and he was stuck in his place, "It's something about- -they got the syntax- -it's a blessing, um."

"Clever, as well as gorgeous?" JJ sounded approving, and far too close for Malik's liking, "Go on?"

"Uhm-" He could feel JJ brushing at his hair again, and a rising well of indignation. He turned his head to glare at JJ, and was just opening his mouth to tell him to shove off, when Isis grabbed Malik by the scruff and yanked him out of the situation. All at once the liquid of his body started cooling into distinct shapes; bones and twining muscles, and he snapped his head round, "Isis?"

"I'm sorry, I need to speak with my brother, please enjoy your stay," Isis’ words were an angry scuffle of sound, and JJ held both hands up in front of him as Isis proceeded to drag Malik away, "Malik," She snarled lowly, "Could you try not to get yourself arrested?"

Malik squirmed in her grip, batting her away, "It's not like I asked for that guy to crawl all over me," He pulled a face, scruffing at his hair, "Ugh, he touched my hair."

Isis glared levelly at Malik, "You didn't ask him to stop, either-"

"I was just _about_ to," Malik snapped, struggling to keep the argument under his breath, "Fucking dickbreath called me _exotic_ ," Isis’ expression softened, and her grip on his upper arm tightened accordingly.

"Well- just be careful," Isis sighed, herding Malik into her office and shutting the door behind her, "I'm sure the clan coffers could bail you out, but I'd rather not risk it, so-"

"Be less gay in public," Malik raised both eyebrows, "Well I'm sorry, I forgot to shower the gay sweat off me, and the dumb tourists flock like buzzards to my gay stink. Next time I'll be sure to put on my Hetero Anti-Perspirant."

"Malik," Isis warned, a smile tugging at her lips, "Don't sass me."

"Gurl," Malik declared in a fake-tone, rolling his eyes, and flicking a limp wrist at Isis, "Ugh, thank you though."

"You okay?" Isis looked back towards the door, "He didn't-"

"Isis," Malik looked at her boredly, "I'm fine. He played with my earrings a bit, I'm not scarred for life-" He winced at his choice of words, grinning uneasily, "Okay. Well."

"Not your best choice of words," Isis mused, trying to reorganize her already tidy desk. Malik perched at the far end of it, chuckling to himself, "Malik," She had her parental tone of voice, and Malik looked towards her, slight hint of amusement perishing, "You will be careful, right? You know how things are."

"I promise not to get caught by the local Gestapo, sucking some guy off in a club bathroom at 2am."

"Malik-"

"What?" He wrung his hands, eyes rolling, "I just don't see what you're warning me for. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No," Isis shook her head, still shuffling her papers a little too sharply, "I think you're lonely and impulsive."

Malik sighed, "See this is why we never talk about this."

"I just worry about you."

"I know," Malik almost bit his tongue in a bid to stop the rejoinder fumbling out. Thankfully, he managed to contain his response, "I can't stay long, I actually came to apologize for lashing out the other day."

"Water under the bridge," Isis set her papers down, biting her lip, "I know you sometimes have trouble _controlling_ your emotions and-"

"Are you fucking serious?" Malik jerked away from the desk.

"Malik?"

"Look," He pulled at his hair, flicking a strand over his shoulder, "Forget it. I'll see you later."

"No, wait-"

"I'm not interested," He called back, heading for the door, half-expecting Isis to try and grab at him again.

"I'm sorry," Isis called out, sincerity thrumming in her voice, "I don't understand how I've upset you, please, please explain-"

Groaning, Malik shoved the door shut again and reluctantly stalked back towards Isis. Cautiously, she took a seat, and gestured for him to take the other, instead Malik leaned against the desk next to her. Folding his arms over his chest, Malik grimaced, "Shizu," He started, ground his teeth, before trying again, "You didn't set me off; I'm not a ticking bomb. I'm angry with you, not an out of control child."

"Why are you angry?" Isis asked unevenly.

"Well if you're patronizing attitude wasn't enough, you sort of-" He cracked a grin, it was meant to be reassuring, but must have come out a bit demented given the way Isis’ eyes widened, "Like can you not do the dramatic intervention thing?"

"Noted," She looked at him sidelong, "Although-"

"Yes, yes I'm very dramatic," He waved a hand, "And also, please don't book appointments without talking to me, okay?"

"I just really want you to get back to your therapy..."

"It's not your therapy, though," Malik sighed, shaking his head, "It's none of your business, actually."

Isis looked up at him fiercely, eyes glinting, "You're my brother though."

He eyed her, nose wrinkling, "Next time just suggest it, alright? You have every right to be concerned, but don't try to micromanage my life or anything. It's kinda controlling," Malik paused, and uncrossed his arms, bracing himself against his desk, "You know, you might benefit from some therapy yourself there."

"Don't be rude," Isis’ expression became sharp, ferocity giving way to fury.

He shrugged delicately, "I'm not; you went through a bad childhood too."

"Well then why don't you suggest it to Rishid?" Isis snapped, "Or is it-"

"I have," Malik replied airily, "He's come to a few of my own session. It's helped us establish better boundaries," Rubbing at his face, Malik looked at Isis, "It's just a thought, no pressure, but maybe next session I have - if you haven't looked into it on your own - you can come with me," He moved away from the desk, dusting his hands off, "But again, take it or leave it. It's none of my business, okay?" He eyed her, "You understand."

"I..." She paused, "I think so, yes."

"Cool," He nodded, leaning down to hug Isis, "I love you very much," He stated with affectionate abandon, "Will you be home tonight?"

Isis pressed her hand to the back of Malik's head, smoothing down his hair, "I might take a half-day, actually."

"Mh," He nuzzled the side of her face, "Need a lift?"

"If you could?"

"I think I could."

* * *

Malik sneezed as he tossed his helmet off to the side, scraping at his shirt ruefully, "Sorry about that," He tipped his head at Isis, who had struggled out of the spare helmet she kept in her office, and was now trying to comb her hair into line using her fingers. He laughed into the palm of his hand, before snagging a brush from the counter, "Here, sis."

"Sometimes I think you do it on purpose," Isis protested.

"Sometimes I think I do too!" Malik beamed, bounding into the house, "Rishid! You home?" There was an answering call from the kitchen, and Malik chased after it to find Rishid cooking at the stove, "Oh! What's for dinner-"

Rishid flicked the spatula to the counter, rounding on Malik, "You're filthy."

"Uh," Malik combed a hand through his hair, "Am I?"

"You're covered in dirt," Rishid began herding Malik back through the door, "Go wash it off."

"I call the bathroom first," Isis yelped, darting into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

Unsteadily, Malik grinned up at Rishid who merely crossed his arms, "Once she's done, you're next," Rishid growled, looking at the carpet a bit warily.

"And then I can have dinner?" He tilted his head, still cheshire grinning at his brother.

"We'll see," Rishid looked back towards the door, as Malik flopped down in the hallway to wait for Isis, "You took the bike out?"

"Yeah- thanks for having her serviced, by the way," Malik peered at his hands, remembering the feeling of fumbling things with gauze-wrapped palms, "I guess it's been awhile, or I would have noticed. I've been working on the new suzuki thingy, lately-" He nodded towards the bathroom, "For sis," Distantly, Malik felt the faintest brush against his mind, but when he leaned into the contact it shied away.

"Something on your mind?"

"Just..." Malik looked up at Rishid, "I probably-" He looked down again, head dropping, and wriggled into a more comfortable position, "It's nothing."

"You sure?" Rishid crouched down in front of Malik, and they absently linked hands.

"Really, it's nothing," Malik squeezed Rishid's fingers, "Go make dinner; I'm really hungry."

"You can always speak with me," Rishid assured Malik, tightening his hold on Malik's fingers before standing and heading back for the kitchen.

When Rishid had disappeared into the kitchen, door clicking shut behind him, Malik furled into a ball, running his hands through his hair, turning Alezl's slack face over and over in his mind. The way his body tensed up in his sleep, but spread out sleekly when he was awake. The slightly felinus pace to his movements, and wild tendency of his expression to gloss from passive to manic. More than that, he clenched and released his fingers, remembering the way Alezl felt like nothing under his touch.

* * *

Leaning back in the bath, Malik glanced towards the door, as if expecting Alezl to appear, but when he was not forthcoming, he turned his attention to rinsing the dust from his hair, running his hands through it. He plucked at a damp strand, studying the colour. Granted it was somewhat unusual, but blond hair was hardly that unusual and all kinds of things were unusual. Bakura for example, had been unusual - or Ryou anyway - with the curling silvery colour of his hair, and translucent touch to his skin. The coy paleness of it, like sand with sunlight dashed across it. That had definitely been unusual, Malik had caught himself stroking at the hair wonderingly, whilst Bakura smirked and inclined his head towards him, and all through the entire association, Malik had never once called Bakura exotic.

Exotic wasn't a compliment, and Malik was _not_ exotic. If anything, JJ was exotic, at least in Egypt. He'd had light skin, quick to brighten; it had even been smeared across the nose with a sunburn. Malik on the other hand, had watched Alezl turn from a dusky brown to a smooth brassy colour, as heat waxed into season. It was attractive, certainly, different from the nimble colour of Bakura's fingers, skimming down Malik's chest, scratching and-

The contrasts were exquisite; pain to pleasure, silver to copper, but even then Malik would never have insulted him by using the word exotic. That was just code for extreme objectification and some kind of racist fetish.

"Ah," Malik breathed out, so that was the cold, moody feeling prickling under his skin. The feeling of being objectified. Sticky and unpleasant in his chest. However, there was the other languid, heated curl somewhere in the pit of his stomach though, that caught at him. The feeling of being wanted, maybe not by JJ in particular, but in general, outright pride flourishing into arousal. He sneered at the curled up feelings, a hot spike of loathing interrupting, and that had warmth spilling right down his spine when it should have stuttered across his nerves.

Distractedly, he palmed between his legs, splaying them apart with a distasteful snarl.

He was not exotic; he knew that. He'd seen Alezl stretch lithely in the morning, midriff flashing in the warm light, and he'd seen Alezl in the low-light, shadows cast low over his skin. He was attractive, but it had nothing to do with the skin. It couldn't possibly, after-all it was Malik's own skin, he doubted he'd find that attractive, in anything, but an objective, vain manner. No, it was the way Alezl filled the skin, settled into it. The way he moved it, with loose gestures, tight-toothed grin, easy lean into Malik and delicate yawns. Fingers catching at Malik's thighs, scratching. Biting at his lip, and snickering into the kiss, teeth catching on Malik's collarbone-

Malik arched, groan humming in his throat. As he moved, the soothing water sloshed obscenely between his legs, and the sound squirmed past his senses, coming to his attention. His hand fell still, eyes snapping open.

"What... the fuck am I doing?"

He stared at the ceiling, cataloguing the feeling of his hair plastered to his face, blood spinning, skin flickering and the suddenly awkward feeling of his hand wrapped loosely around his dick. His hard dick. The one in his hand. That one.

Dazedly, he looked down at himself, "Huh..." He licked his lips, eyes narrowed.

Stopping was definitely a possibility, probably the best course of action, but Malik almost shrugged; it'd be far simpler to finish it off.

Without thinking about Alezl. He had to cut that crap out.

Resettling in the water, Malik shut his eyes, snagging at a nearby thought. The way Bakura had worn Ryou's glossy skin, could shake his hair out of the motorbike helmet like an ancient king out of time and too arrogant to be dismissed. It was completely different to the way Ryou held his own body, filling into the skin differently. Malik couldn't have considered doing things to Ryou that came easily with Bakura, swirling up from his imagination with a ready ease. Panting red mouth, high-pitched laugher tickling between Malik's legs, the grabbing coil of his fingertips.

It was impossible to consider Ryou doing things like that, an uncomfortable brand of dirty.

They were different. Moved differently. Too different; it had once bothered Malik, but now, it seemed almost reassuring. A body didn't define a person. What made Malik was not what had made his other Side. Alezl was different to him, even small gestures coloured so contrastingly to Malik's- Malik bared his teeth, whining under his breath, and tightened his grip, lungs clawing for air in his chest.

The breath came, a groan two shades too loud for his liking, sound spattering in the air with a swish of water. Malik took another breath, the air used up too fast, as awareness unfurled through his oxygen-gasping body. It came slowly, reluctantly coming to heel. This time the catalogue of senses was damp, a little cold and embarrassing: cooling water, cooling blood, cooling nerve endings.

Gingerly, Malik peered at his hand, grimacing; where the water and semen had mingled, they'd become sticky, clinging to Malik's hand and stomach, "Urgh," He scraped at his palm, "Gross, gross, gross."

* * *

"Hi," Malik grinned nervously at Alezl, "How are you? Feeling better? Good to see you," His grin cracked a little, guilt curling through him and Malik shifted under the sheet. He could feel his face burning, and Alezl paused, half-clambered on the bed. He tipped his head at Malik, "What? What is it?"

Alezl shrugged, climbing onto the bed and flopping back, "You're acting weird. What's up?"

"Nothing," Malik flinched, and Alezl snorted, curling onto his side, "I mean- -are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Alezl answered sluggishly, closing his eyes and tucking his head into his arm, "So what did you do?"

"Nothing," Malik repeated firmly, rolling onto his side to stare at Alezl. He was met with that tight grin, and squeezed his eyes shut, "You okay?"

"You already asked that."

"You lied," He looked off to the side, blinking rapidly, eyes scanning the darkness.

Alezl snorted, "So did you," He snuggled into his arm, hesitating in the faint light, "I thought we were trying to trust each other."

Malik winced, they had after-all agreed to try and make a new start. Somehow he was pretty sure jerking off to Alezl wouldn't be a welcome feature in this new leaf, "We should still have privacy," He swallowed, "My head's just weird; some guy hit on me when I was at the museum."

"Dick," Alezl determined, before relenting, "Unless that was good? Kinda' dangerous but whatever gets it going for you-?"

Malik covered his face in his hands, groaning with irritation, "No, he was weird."

"So danger does get you going?" Alezl snickered into his arm, "Well, knowing what I know."

"And what do you know?" Malik demanded thickly, tongue useless in his mouth, slurring the question. A wet, heated flash of shame twisting through his body and wringing him out.

"Everything until the end of Battle City," Alezl admitted with an easy air, "I've been pretty observant in the past three years, though," Malik shoved his face into his pillow, struggling to hide the raw relief in his voice; Alezl wouldn't know.

"Then you'd probably know what gets me off."

Alezl chewed at one of his nails, "Pretty boys who scratch," He paused, "But not on your back..."

"Not on my back," Malik agreed quietly, one hand latching onto his shoulder, rubbing a wing tip, and beside him Alezl gave a clotting noise of distress, "Sorry," Malik mumbled, hand moving away.

"Just bad memories," Alezl sighed, "It's at the root of us; I know you understand," Malik felt silence gather in the crevices of his body, and was glad when Alezl cleared his throat, "Can you change your name?"

"Name?" Malik startled, "Did you want me to change my name?" He frowned, "I'm definitely-"

"Name me," Alezl murmured, cutting over Malik. He stretched out on his back, arms hooking behind his head, "If you're responsible for me, name me."

"I couldn't."

Alezl shut his eyes, eyebrows tensing, "You could."

"Alezl, I can't-"

"You can," Alezl sounded faintly angry, tone crackling, "You should."

"Don't-"

"Please?" The anger had drained away, leaving a quiet hopefulness in its wake. Gently, Alezl looked over at Malik, "I want this."

Malik's brow furrowed, "But what sort of name-"

"Think of something good," Alezl turned away from Malik, curling into himself, "Let me know."

"I-" Malik looked down at his hand, half-reached out to Alezl, and quickly pulled it back to his chest, "Okay."

* * *

"Good morning, Idris," Malik nudged at Alezl's mind, and felt it clutch back at him tiredly. Alezl linked his hands, stretching out and rolling towards Malik with a low, exhausted laugh.

"Keep trying."

Malik sighed, shifting away from Alezl, "Talal?"

"Better," With that Alezl continued to edge closer to Malik, curling into him, "Let's go somewhere."

All but flinging himself from the bed, Malik got to his feet, hands raised, "You have somewhere in mind?" Alezl made no answer, yawning and curling into a sloppy ball on the bed, "Taj?" He tapped at Alezl mentally, and Alezl pulled both arms over his head, entire body a taunt line of exhaustion.

"Nope, and nope," Alezl muttered, "Why are we so tired?"

"I don't know, Munahid," For a moment Malik thought that might have been a success, when Alezl peeked out from behind his arms. However, his nose was wrinkled in distaste, "Wanna just go for a drive?"

"Sure," Alezl unrolled, spreading out over the bed, and laughing at the ceiling, "God, I feel like sin," Malik watched the taunt stretch of Alezl's limbs, biting the inside of his cheek, and Alezl eyed him, head lolling, "Quit biting, would ya'?"

Malik let go, blinking, "Are you even going to get up?"

"Not if I can help it," Alezl admitted, rolling away from Malik and tucking an arm over his head, "I'm tired."

"Well," Malik picked at the hem of his shirt, fingers cragging into faint claws, "How about I feed your..." Alezl had rolled away more tightly, and Malik coughed, "I'll meet you by the bike."

* * *

Malik crouched by the pond, dropping flakes into the water with a regretful expression. His thoughts buzzed like a moth in a glass jar, bumping up against the edges of his head, as he continued to drop the food into the pool. Finished, he hovered his hand over the water, before finally getting to his feet and heading for the garage. He pressed against Alezl, felt him squirm in answer before flashing into place next to Malik, arms hooked about his head and cape back in its place around his neck. Odder was the lack of jewellery, and Malik studied Alezl's exposed forearms.

"That's different," He commented, and Alezl adjusted the cloak, "Looks good," Malik spun away from Alezl, preoccupying himself with his bike, "How about Iyad?" He called out, fingers staining as he tightened a lead.

"How about no," Alezl replied, strolling back and forth through the garage, cloak billowing out behind him, "I miss the bike," He commented, leaning against the worktop, "We shouldn't stay locked in the house all day."

"I've been thinking the same thing," Malik chuckled under his breath, hitching his bike against his body, "How about Kazuki?"

"Do I look japanese to you?" Alezl looked at Malik with a deadpan expression, arms folding over his chest.

"Imhotep?"

"You must be kidding. In peace?"

"Point taken," Malik shrugged, wheeling the bike towards the door and sniffing appreciatively at the wind. There was the faint tang of a storm lurking in it, and the prospect of rain had Malik's mood brightening. As much as he cared for the sunlight, the way the heat dissipated in the wake of water clarified his thoughts, the way few things could.

"Ready to go, Davey?"

"Fuck. No."

He raised an eyebrow, "Not ready to go?"

"Davey...?"

"Or David?" Malik smirked, head tilting, "You don't think it suits?"

"I really don't," Alezl studied the bike for a moment, "Last time I just stayed in your head - I don't think that'll work anymore. I don't exist there anymore," Malik rubbed at the edge of Alezl's mind, "Point taken, but can you exist when all you've got are your own thoughts?"

"I suppose not," Malik gestured towards the back of the bike, as he swung a leg over it, "You don't fall through everything, come on," Dubiously, Alezl straddled the bike behind Malik, hands curling on the seat, "Look if you need to cut into my body to balance..." Malik rolled his eyes, "It's no big deal okay."

"Noted," Alezl muttered, "Don't crash into anything."

"Good advice, that."

The rain didn't come, but the humidity did, and it was only the artificial wind rolling off their speed that kept Malik from throwing the entire endeavour off. Checking in his mirror, he saw Alezl lean closer, eyes drifting shut, cloak curled in his fists and fighting the handhold. It was strange how different driving with Alezl felt; less like he was straining at a leash, and closer to a grounded feeling. Like roots clasping through Malik's chest, and curling around his ribs, hooking somewhere in his marrow and tugging his pulse to a steady high.

On instinct, Malik loosed an exhilarated whoop, throwing his head back and probably swallowing a bug as he did so. It all seemed so secondary with his hand curling out behind him and Alezl tucked towards his back, humming lowly along with the engine.

They came to a stop, Malik disentangling himself from the bike, whilst Alezl simply phased through, rolling to his feet with a wild laugh. Alezl all but skipped towards the edge of the cliff, and Malik padded to stand by the road-barrier, fingers pressing into the heated metal. He could feel the air tangle in his hair, and cut across his face, "Seti?"

"Can you say Seto?" Alezl purred, twisting his head in the breeze. Lazily, he opened his eyes, "I love views like this."

Looking down at the curve of the desert, finding more rubble and poorly surfaced highway than sand, and as always the thick arc of the sun dipping towards the horizon. A faint coronae of gold glinted off the sand, scattering light in a spray of colour.

"Tetsuya-"

"I'm not Japanese," Alezl laughed into the wind, hair flickering, twisting to grin at Malik. All teeth, and glinting brightness. Glowing in the slippery light of sunset, it was hard to think of him as a shadow, streaking out behind light. Easier to see him as light filtered in water, or spotting through leaves; the weight of shade and promise of day-

"Diya?" Malik twisted towards Alezl.

"No, I think not," Alezl shook his head, grin widening like a pool of water gathering in the rain. Distantly, Malik smelt the flare of rain, heard a crack of thunder-

"Allal?"

And just like that, Alezl's grin clicked closed into a gently smile; it was easy, too easy, "Sure," Malik tipped forward, fingertips hovering barely away from Alezl's face, clasping at the air. His eyelids closed decidedly, and in the sudden dark, there was nothing to feel. Just the wind whistling against his lips.

He pulled back, watching Alezl blink at him.

Allal.

"I see," Allal determined, voice heavy and words weighty for all their scarcity.

Malik dropped his hands back to the guard-rail, fingers tucking into the grooves of the metal. It might have been the intangibility of it, the sheer lack of tactility, but there was nothing demanding or asking in the kiss. No question hidden somewhere in it. Barely a statement, as it was. He felt Allal brush at his mind, their edges clicking together like puzzle pieces - yes, more like that. Just a touch, a little reassuring and mostly just too easy.

"It's a nice view," Malik looked out across the dying light, watched it perish with the seconds.

* * *

Malik ruffled his hair, dislodging dust with each rough hand movement, as he entered the house. Allal had trotted after him, not a speck of dirt on him, and looking somewhat smug, as Rishid practically pounced, shepherding Malik into the bathroom. The door shut behind him, and after a moment Allal poked his head through, "He's right you know," Allal smirked, "You are _filthy_."

"Don't be vulgar," Malik retorted, pulling his shirt over his head and sneezing on the dust, "Don't look," He snapped, fretting with his belt.

Allal traipsed through the door, dropping to the floor in his typical rude cross-legged position. This time his cloak was knotted at his back, keeping it close to his body, "Thank you for the bike ride."

"No trouble," Malik shrugged, as he clambered into the bath, inching away from the hissing taps. He dashed a hand beneath the water, running it under the taps.

"That's warm enough," Allal leaned back against the bath, shoulders twitching tensely whilst Malik turned the taps off, cinching them a little tightly. Satisfied, Malik stretched out in the bath, neck craning and throat flashing- before the sight of the ceiling managed to crash the memory of what he had done last time he was here. He'd ended up tingling, head to foot, imagination warbling rhapsodic about- well technically, himself.

His body.

Malik looked over at Allal, minds clacking together like billiard balls, and Allal looked up at him, head tipped back, "Malik?"

"Aren't you going to ask what that... before, what that was about?"

"The kissing?" Allal prompted, a smirk forming stickily on his face, teeth hinting.

"Yes," Malik snapped, one hand cutting through the water with a splash, "Aren't you going to ask about it?"

Allal's sat up, inspecting the wall across from him, "Hm - should...I?" He twisted to squint at Malik.

Between the smirk, and hesitant words, Malik wasn't sure if he was being teased or punked, and sank back in the water until his face was half-submerged. Sluggishly he blew a stream of bubbles out.

"No?" Allal blinked, "Did you want to ask about it?"

Shaking his head hard, Malik drifted under water in a quick movement, and when he resurfaced, Allal had turned, hands clinging to the edge of the bath. His eyes were surprisingly wide, face a thin and nervous line, "Warn a guy next time?" Allal murmured, tension loosening bolt by bone by bolt.

"For kissing or drowning?" Malik tilted his head, pulled at Allal's mind and cupped his cheek. Again there was no feel to it, no weight or meaning pressing in. Malik felt something bold and eager - lonely, impulsive - unravel in his chest, and he turned closer to Allal, leaning in and kissing experimentally into the blank tactility. Allal's mind flashed out against him, and he grabbed after it, going after hair and hands coming up empty. Mind winding Allal close.

Allal drew back, "Does it count as kissing if we don't touch?"

"No idea," Malik's found himself reaching out again, mentally and physically grasping at straws. Allal curved in obediently, the faintest impression of parted lips, insistent fantasy of a panting red mouth, saliva hot and air damp from Allal's lungs. They withdrew in unison, and Allal quirked his head at Malik, "I've decided," Malik's voice was a foreign body in his chest, squirming in the crevices of his body, "That I want to keep you."

"You want me?" Allal's face faltered, something blank and puzzled fighting for dominance.

"Yes."

* * *

The sun creaked into Malik's room, stealing through the crack in his blinds and falling across his face. He could feel it long before the light prickled at his eyelids, turning the dark of his closed eyes to a blood-stained russet. Moaning with discomfort, Malik rolled onto his back, throwing a hand across his face, but by then the damage was done, and he could feel himself waking up. As usual he woke feeling almost hollowed out, as though he'd spend the night doing something far more strenuous than look at the tight curl of Allal next to him. Like he'd strained some muscle buried deep in his skull.

Exhaustedly, he stirred, looking down at the points where Allal had intersected him in the night. A hand thrown through his chest, a head tucked against his side, legs curling into and about each other. With an unpracticed - undecided, at that - fondness, Malik slid his fingers through the spaces Allal should have existed, and something cold drifted to mind.

He couldn't validly keep Allal locked inside his head. He had a right to life - he had a right to a quality of life. Living buried in the underground of Malik's thoughts was hardly a life at all.

This- this was a complication, hell the kissing thing was a complication. Allal was complication, layered on broken, splintered pieces of mind. This was definitionally a complicated matter, but no matter how complicated it was, it was hard to ignore the truth.

"Stay," He murmured, brushing his mouth at the corner of Allal's jaw, "I'll be back soon," He skimmed against Allal's thoughts, felt them lazily respond in a vague curl of consciousness, "Morning to you."

Slowly, Malik swung his legs over the side of the bed, and got to his feet, toes shifting in the thick carpet. He took a deep breath, felt Allal rouse, and let the breath out, before making his way to the door. As usual, Isis gave no indication she'd wake up in a timely manner, and Rishid looked as though he'd been awake for just the right amount of time.

"Malik," Rishid looked up from the kitchen table, smoothing his newspaper down onto the table, "You're awake so early, _habibi_."

Slipping into the seat opposite Rishid, Malik clasped his hands on the table in front of him, "Rishid, I've been seeing my alternative identity."

Whatever reaction had erupted in Rishid, he contained it; Malik honestly admired Rishid's ability to clamp down on his responses. The only sign of Rishid's disquiet was the pin-prick constriction of his pupils, a slight tremor that shot through his left shoulder.

"How long?" Rishid asked, voice brittle with control.

"A little intermittent at first, but pretty much constantly-"

"How long?" The control was snapping, and Malik flinched instinctively.

"Almost six months."

There was a warning rising in Rishid's eyes, his entire body straightening, and Malik held both hands up, shrinking back slightly.

"I talked to my therapist immediately about it; I can get the records for that!"

"Malik," Rishid's tone wavered between testy and frightened, some undirected rage bubbling under it, "You last spoke to your therapist almost six months ago."

He laughed nervously, "Coincidence?" Malik coughed, "The situation just showed me they didn't really get the OSDD thing. I swear they thought I had schizophrenia; they seriously suggested medication. Then they started talking about DID, I mean I get it's a related disorder, but-"

"Malik, what do you mean you've been seeing the alter-ego?" Rishid asked slowly.

"Well, like when I'd possess someone-" Obviously that was the complete wrong thing to say, because Rishid's chair jerked back from the table in alarm, "He's not possessing me! I mean, like the projection thing!" It was too late, Rishid had already shoved his chair back, making for the door, "Wait- where are you-?"

"We need to talk to Isis about this," Rishid replied, and Malik practically leapt on Rishid, trying to pull him away from the door.

"Please don't!" Malik's feet dragged along the ground, as Rishid continued to walk towards the door, "Please! Rishid!"

"Malik, let go," Rishid dislodged one of Malik's hands, but as soon as Rishid started on the second hand, Malik had latched on again with the first one. He clung at Rishid, entire body involved in a concerted flail.

"Rishid, please don't! I don't want her to hurt him," Malik yanked harder, voice hot and burning in his throat, "Brother, please, _please_!"

Something in Malik's tone must have reached across the gulf of Rishid's fear, because Rishid paused, turning his head to look down at Malik, " _Habibi_ , why not?"

Malik didn't loosen his grip, fingers still tightly digging in, "He's not dangerous - he- he's-" Malik took a gulp of air in, found it dizzying in his veins, "I'm responsible for him."

"Malik," Rishid's voice raised in pitch, "What do you mean?"

"I- I named him, so he's-"

"I don't understand," Rishid decided, face suggesting he thought Malik was irrational.

Giving a half-hearted tug, Malik stared hopelessly up at his brother, "Just- sit down and listen for-" He coughed, "For, for a moment?"

"I still believe we should tell Isis," Rishid stated, returning to his seat, Malik still clinging and dragged in tow. This time they sat down side by side, half-turning in their seats to look at each other, "Malik-" He studied his lap uneasily, " _Habibi_ , I will listen as well as I know how."

"Okay," Malik still hadn't looked away from his lap, "So- I've been able to see Allal for almost half a year," He paused, finally looking up at Rishid, "That's his name: Allal. He was Alezl, but after Alelyel died - one of the fish - I think it was because of that anyway."

"Malik," Rishid's voice gently nudged Malik back on topic.

"He's been around for six months," He shrugged helplessly, body jerking like a marionette, "I like him. If Isis was told, she'd freak out and might try and do something to me, or maybe him. She doesn't have a good track record with handling these things."

"That is true."

"And this is a sensitive subject."

"That is also true."

"And he's. He's not dangerous, I swear."

"Malik, he forcibly gained control of your body twice, the first time he murdered your father-"

"Our father," Malik shot back, "And even you admitted, father had it coming."

"That as may be, but then he turned on Isis and myself, with the intention of killing us. The second time, he attempted to murder several people, put others in comas, and endeavoured to bathe the world in darkness," Malik picked at the tabletop, " _Habibi_ , I don't know what he's told you, but he is not safe."

"He was scared," It came out harsher than a whisper, but too quiet to have any real force behind it, "At least I think so. He's an EP, one of those emotional parts Dr Pekarsky talked to us about," Malik looked off to the side, "Something like a protector, fighter type. Whenever you were out - he was triggered to protect when you couldn't."

"He attempted to kill-"

"You know he couldn't control his reactions the same way we do. Emotional Part. He can't _shut_ out nore - fuck what was it - norepinephrine, and stuff, the shadow magic too I think, look- he's _vulnerable_ -"

"That is exactly why he's dangerous."

"No, see- -he's growing," Malik tapped his fingertips on the table, "He's controlling his actions. He's not dangerous. He's behaving, not like me, we're kinda' different but-"

Rishid raised both eyebrows, skeptical, "You're saying he's behaving in an apparently normal fashion?"

"I don't know," Malik huffed, "He can't control the body, so it's hard to test that," He looked off to the side, "I'm going to start seeing what I can do about that."

Rishid's chair clattered back, as he once more took to his feet, "Malik, you cannot possibly be serious?"

"He has a right to live," Malik had to reign his yell back in, glowering up at his brother with bright eyes, "But what kind of life is living trapped? He's not even parti-fronting like pre-Battle City. He's a ghost. We ripped him out with Shadow Magic, and when he poured back in, I don't think the.." Malik faltered on the technical term, "The," He squinted, "The recording part - the one that kept me cohesive?"

"Observing Emotional Part?"

"That," Malik got to his feet, hands clenched, "I don't think it's working with him anymore. The least I can do is _share_."

"Your body?"

"Our body."

"Malik-"

"I want him around," Malik snarled, head flicking to the side, as he took to staring at the floor, "He's sweet and a little wild and all that stuff you said about me."

"Malik," Rishid grasped him firmly by his arms, "You don't need to give up your body just because things aren't fair. It's yours, not his. He has no right to it. He has no rights; by all rights he shouldn't exist."

"But he does," Came the defence, "He does exist, so he has a right to a _good_ existence. Believe me, I tried ignoring him, I was a complete asshole to him, I was fucking _cruel_ and it's _wrong_ ," Malik ground his teeth, "It's like the way father treated you. People deserve better. He deserves better," Malik refocused on Rishid, prying at the hands on his arms, "I'm going to try and I didn't tell you about it so you could, could-" His voice cracked, the sound a pained shatter of displaced chords, "You said you were safe."

At that, Rishid released Malik and Malik promptly crashed into Rishid's chest, panting and curling closely, " _Habibi_ , why _did_ you tell me?"

Malik's frantic murmur was engulfed in Rishid's chest, but the word rattled his bones.

"I don't trust him."

* * *

Allal watched Malik jump in alarm at Isis’ approach over dinner. Glancing between Malik and Rishid, he settled in his seat, side-snarling at Rishid more from habit than feeling, and focused on Isis. Whatever had bothered Malik involved Rishid, but the dust had long come to rest by the time Allal had staggered out of bed. The rest of the day had proceeded quietly, Malik strewn across the couch with Allal sitting cross-legged on the floor. They'd read a book, ignored the television, and neglected to feed the-

"Malik - I was thinking we should replace the fish?"

Malik blinked, "Replace?" Allal sat up, a pained frown coming to his face. Malik glanced briefly at Allal, noting the slight harden in Rishid's gaze, "Isn't that a bit expensive?"

"Well, I was reading up on it," Isis nodded, eyes brushing at the clock on the wall, "Apparently good feng-shui requires eight bright fish and one dark one. For good luck."

"Feng shui is chinese, not japanese," Malik squinted at his sister, but was immediately distracted by the urgent rapping at his mind from Allal. Malik could feel Allal's mind twisting in distress, edges skittering and Malik looked at him, ignoring his sister's puzzled expression and Rishid's darkening one.

"Alelyel turned white," Allal whined, "He went from dark to bright."

He pressed back against Allal's mind soothingly, but Allal drooped lower in his spot, finally lying across the table, curled into himself. Malik watched Isis excuse herself, but Rishid remained stoically across from him, and Malik bared his teeth whilst Allal trembled in a heap across the table. Finally, Malik stood up, tugging hard on Allal's mind; in answer, Allal finally snapped his head up.

He'd half-expected tears, or at least gleaming eyes. Allal's face seemed remarkably unchanged, mouth a little small, and eyes a little large. Still, he watched Malik stand, before rushing through the table, body intersecting with it-

"Good night, _habibi_ ," Rishid called out, as Malik turned to leave the table, and he glanced back towards his brother, head tipping, "And Allal?"

Allal turned on Malik, growling, "What?" The slightness of his mouth vanished beneath a wide snarl.

"Thank you, Rishid," Rolling his eyes, Malik brushed at Rishid's hand. The affectionate gesture was distracted as Allal launched into wordless growling. He didn't stop at any point between Malik leaving the kitchen and reaching his room, but as soon as the door had shut, Malik rounded on Allal, "Quit that out."

"You _told_ him."

"I said I was going to," Malik narrowed his eyes, "I've spent the day defending you, so just shut up-"

Hissing, Allal leapt up onto the bed, curling up on the far side of the bed, "You said you wanted me."

"I am not having this argument with you," Malik spat, finding the furthest spot away from Allal.

"Good - I hate you."

"No, you don't," Malik rolled over to glare at Allal's back.

Allal snorted, shoulders hunching, "I do, I hate you so much, I hate you more than Rishid," At this Allal peered over his shoulder, expression disdainful, "Rishid, really?"

"Oh would you stop fucking blaming Rishid for _everything_."

"Maybe when it isn't his fault," Allal twisted towards Malik, teeth still showing angrily, "You talk like he's done you so much good, but let me tell you it wasn't good enough."

"Define good enough," Malik sat up, body tensing, "Go on, explain to me exactly what you think is good enough, because I'm pretty nothing is good enough for you."

Strangely enough, Allal fell through the bed, rolling out and getting back up onto it, eyes lit up like violent fireworks. The entire process was strange, but abruptly lost in Allal's dramatic yell, "He could have stopped them carving me into existence, how about that, then we'd both be happy! Happy Malik! Happy Whoever I am!"

"Stop throwing a tantrum just because I told my _brother_ you exist," Malik fell back on the sheets, tension loosing in the single movement. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling, "I told you I was going to."

"I bet he told Ishi-"

"He didn't."

Allal paused, leaning back to rest on his heels, "He... won't?" He questioned searchingly.

"He won't," Malik dropped an arm over his face, "Allal, please- I need to think about something."

Slowly, Allal sidled closer, leaning over Malik, "About what?"

Malik uncurled his arm, looking up at Allal's suddenly slack expression, "I don't know, doesn't matter; are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to sleep on it," Malik chewed at his lip, reaching out to comb at Allal's hair, "I promise you, I'm keeping you," He leaned upwards, neck straining to dust a kiss somewhere on Allal's face - under his left eye as it turned out - and fell back with a sigh, "Thank you, for being there-" A crooked swallow, sound snapping in his throat, "When they cut me open. I don't think I could have survived it without you."

"I know you couldn't have."

Allal ducked his head, pressing his forehead against Malik's, and once again the edges of them slid through one another. Struggling to swallow, Allal shifted away, curling next to Malik in a tense mess, and dimly his breathing evened out. The disjointed coughs shifting into smooth riverlets of growls and a soft humming purr.

Gingerly, Malik fussed inside his own head, scrabbling not for the edges of Allal, but for something else. It was hard trying to use a sense that - quite frankly barely existed - to locate something you'd never had to so much as acknowledge in your life. Something that wasn't even meant to be involved in a concrete manner, and had to exist simply to make sense of the human mind. And now Malik - inexperienced with himself, at best - furrowed about his own skill, trying not to scratch at Allal, bidding the damn thing to show itself.

It clicked into place, and Malik jolted, tumbling through the bed into something worse than darkness. Frantically, he rolled and scrambled, finding himself on the floor besides his bed, looking down at himself. He looked down at his own hands, vision swimming into gray-scale, before jerking upright in the darkness.

Allal stirred beside him, tucking into a closer ball and whining in irritation.

Malik felt like he'd be hung upside down, throat slit and left until his blood spilled out onto the floor. Woozy- he wavered, dropping back onto the bed with a muffled thump. The room tightened, and Malik's eyes rolled neatly back in his head.

* * *

"Wake up," Allal pressed against Malik's mind insistently, clawing gently at the edges, "Wake up, _now_ ," Malik rolled onto his front, intersecting Allal, who squirmed out of the way, "Malik?"

"Ugh," Malik pressed further into the pillow, "Is it morning?"

Allal plopped back on the bed, snorting, "It's afternoon, actually."

"Early afternoon?" Malik pushed the pillow aside to look Allal in the eye. Allal shrugged, "Late afternoon?"

"Bit of both," Allal decided, "I think Rishid came in to check on you before he went out," Malik hummed into the sheets, the sound muffled, "I'm bored."

"Well, can't have that," Malik turned onto his side, rolling his eyes at Allal. However, he stretched out on his side, yawning and raising his arms tauntly over his head. As his muscles relaxed, he eyed Allal thoughtfully, "Do you trust me?"

Taken aback, Allal curled up minutely, still looking at Malik, blinking, "Not really," He twitched his shoulders in a slight shrug, "I think I proved that last night - I'm trying to, it's just difficult."

"I think we're in the same boat, then," Malik determined, squirming slightly closer, "I want to trust you - it makes things a lot simpler."

"Was this what you were thinking about?" Allal looked almost chastened, fingers curled into loose fists, and body curled. It was almost strange to see how tense Allal could be, but loose and encompassing the next.

"A little bit," Slowly, Malik pushed himself up to a sitting position, stretching his legs out, "Come on, we should feed your fish," The tension in Allal's body reached some kind of peak, entire body set into a rigid curve, "Allal," He stroked at Allal's mind, nudged at him, "I don't know how to feed them," Allal curled his face into the sheets, "Allal - I need you."

The tension leaked faintly, as Allal turned back towards Malik, face still, "Okay," He looked off to the side, "Let's feed them."

* * *

Allal peered into the glassy water, frowning and head tilting, "They're gone?"

"Well, it was fouling the water," Malik decided against mentioning that Rishid had pulled the dead fish from the water, and shrugged haplessly at Allal. Picking up the bowl of koi food, Malik looked down at it, before setting it aside and kneeling down by the pond. Allal followed suit, sitting cross-legged and hovering his hand over the water uncertainly, "Allal?"

"Yes?" Allal stared into the water, eyes moving slightly to follower the flickering movement of the koi.

Sighing, Malik pulled at the edges of his mind again, kicking about to try and get the same feeling as the night before. Once again he had the feeling of snarling into the absolute void, and once again, just as suddenly it clicked into place. If anything it came quicker this time, the rotating feeling more sudden- pulling at his stomach.

He was staring into the pond, arms-outstretched. He startled, squawking and toppling face-first into the water, and besides him, Allal jerked back hard enough to elbow the bowl of koi food into the pond. Malik scrabbled in the water, keenly aware he couldn't feel any of it, but finally crawled out, panting to kneel next to Allal, who was wincing and turning his hands over in the air.

Without looking away from his hands, Allal spoke slowly. Almost as though the words might shatter before they were said aloud, "I thought you didn't trust me."

"I don't," Malik clenched his fists, pressing them into his lap. This was different, shockingly so from the night before. His vision was colourful, slightly malformed, but perfectly normal.

"This doesn't seem like a good idea, then," Allal began poking at one of his hands, and Malik could feel the sensation dotting along his skin. He jerked his head down to stare at his arm, "Yeah, that'll happen," Allal commented wryly, and when Malik looked up, Allal was grinning lazily at him.

"It's weird," Malik announced.

"This is weirder," Allal decided, now scratching lightly at the back of his hand. As he did so, Allal's entire body gave a squirm, "How'd you do this?"

"Made an educated guess."

Looking across the pond, Allal shifted from kneeling to sitting cross-legged, "If you don't trust me, why did you do this?"

Malik shrugged, looking out across the pond, "We have to start somewhere," Besides him, Allal reached into the water, fishing out the excess koi pellets, and it was though Malik's own hands had been submerged up to the wrists in water - he shuddered in answer.

"Put your hand in the water, it helps," Allal advised gently, and Malik did as he was bid, sensation and perception sliding into unison. He sighed in relief, eyes fluttering closed.

* * *

Malik watched as Allal clambered onto the couch, feeling the texture stinging at his own hands, and Malik looked at them suspiciously. Allal curled into his end of the couch, ignoring Rishid, who turned his head faintly towards Malik. A look crossed over his face, and as Rishid resettled on the couch, Malik could see Rishid's body tense. Allal chuckled under his breath, "You're tense, brother."

Rishid didn't reply, and Allal tucked his legs up towards his body.

"He knows it's you," Malik commented, and Allal's eyes darted from the television to his, a single eyebrow raising, "No, better if you don't answer me."

Allal's other eyebrow raised, but he kept his mouth shut. He nodded vaguely at the spot left between him and Rishid, and Malik edged forward. Settling himself down between them - one leg crossing into Rishid's - Malik wriggled in his spot, vaguely aware of Allal moving an arm to the back of the couch, implicitly curling it around Malik. It didn't escape Rishid's notice, who studied Allal for a long moment.

"Good day, Malik?"

Allal didn't bat an eyelash, until Malik prodded at him mentally, hissing, "Allal, he means you."

"Uh," Twisting his head to squint at Rishid, "What was that?"

"Did you have a good day, Malik?"

Moving his gaze slightly, Allal's focus bored into Malik, mind shoving against him with more than a shade of hinting, "Oh-" Malik whipped his head about to look at Rishid, "Uh, it was different."

"It was different," Allal reported dutifully.

"Mh," Rishid nodded, then picked the remote up from the arm-rest, offering it to Allal, "Did you want me to change the channel?" Malik stared down at his chest, seeing Rishid's arm cutting through it.

"It's fine," Allal frowned, glaring at the remote hatefully. His tightly curled body became even more wound, muscles bunching and teeth gritting.

Rishid's arm moved away, and Allal relaxed all at once, occupying the space more fully. Malik wrapped his arms around him, teeth chattering, when he felt Allal press clumsily against his mind, the hand on the back of the couch moving to card slowly at the end of Malik's hair. Besides them, Rishid glanced at the movement, then looked away; unconcerned.

The mental contact was warm, and reassuring, and Malik pressed back into it.

* * *

"Sure you don't want to switch back?" Allal finally asked, patience breaking as he prodded at the sheets. Malik had already gotten up into the bed, and was watching as Allal seemed entirely unconvinced by the entire process. Allal looked at Malik with a skeptical expression, mouth a tense frown.

"I'm good," Malik shrugged, splaying out across the bed, toying with putting his hand through the pillows and back out.

Allal scuffed a hand at the sheets, picking them up and letting them fall, "It's...unpleasant projecting when the body's is unconscious," With that Allal crossed his arms over his chest defensively, "Everything starts going dark, and won't focus right. It's like going too far away. You lose sensation."

"Is that why you're always asleep before me?" The only answer Allal gave to that was a half-shrug, "I guess this explains last night," Malik added.

"Last night?"

"I took an educated guess last night, tried it out this morning-"

"Afternoon."

Malik snorted, "Fuck off," He flopped back on the bed, body boneless and relaxed. Unlike Allal, he could feel himself stretch out, fill spaces in the universe - although, of course he couldn't like this, "I'm sure though," He leaned back, spine a delicate curve, "Come on."

Shaking his head, Allal hopped into the bed, kicking hard at the sheets and snarling as he quickly became tangled. There was another flurry of movement before Allal had curled up in his familiar side-position, this time haphazardly covered in the sheet. Giving an extended yawn, Allal looked half-lidded at Malik, "Go to sleep sooner rather than later."

Shifting, Malik nodded, "I'll try."

There was a cautious brush at his mind, fragile with affection, "It helps, trust me."

He yawned, nudging back at Allal, "Think I do."

"Hm," Allal blinked slowly, soothingly. His fingertips curled into the sheets, hooking on the fabric, "Good night."

Malik rolled forward, brushing his lips at Allal's - the gesture was oddly no different than it was when their positions were swapped. The same delicacy and sweetness in the lack of sensation, the same gut-pull of perception and sunlit feeling burrowing through his skin. Something honey-coloured, but faint and precious and thin as water. He lulled into it, for a moment, relishing the soft feeling.

Gradually, Malik fell asleep. In little slips and starts, and every time he found his eyes open, Allal was staring tiredly back at him, "Sorry-" He murmured, and again Allal brushed at his mind, stoking the exhaustion curled up in Malik's chest.

"G'Night," Allal gave another yawn, and Malik - at the edges of his awareness - felt his ears pop quietly.

Finally, he fell into a less fitful sleep, and Allal shifted closer, squinting in the darkness, and listening closely to Malik's breathing, before tucking his head into his arm, giving a final, hard yawn and tumbling into sleep himself.

* * *

The world was a hazy mess when Malik opened his eyes, his body half-strewn through Allal's and rearing back showed Allal was deep in sleep, face pressed into his arm. There was a faint hint of drool by Allal's mouth; Malik could feel it cooling on his lip, but rubbing at his own did nothing. Inspecting Allal, Malik found the familiar tension there, faintly furrowing his features, and Malik smiled faintly. Gingerly, he wriggled his fingertips, taking note of his body and moving away from Allal to separate out their lines. His senses were cluttered, skin giving off a low rolling hum, and the odd colour of the world buzzing uncomfortably in his vision-

He prodded hard at Allal's mind, trying to jerk him awake, "Allal," He murmured.

Allal half-rolled into the bed, growling under his breath and Malik squirmed in sudden discomfort when Allal jammed their half-formed erection between their stomach and the mattress. This time Malik practically kicked out at Allal's mind, but Allal had already thrashed onto his back, yelping. Teeth still gritted, Malik abruptly felt a laugh come trembling up from his lungs, spilling loosely into the air, as he flopped down next to Allal, giggling between peals of laughter.

"Stop laughing," Allal protested, hands clutching at a place on his hips and stomach. He turned his head minutely, flushed and pupils dilated.

Malik curved towards him lazily, points of contact along Allal's body flickering under his skin, "Good Morning," Slowly, Allal's fingers smoothed out, and Malik stretched, neck craning under the feeling. He could still feel his nerves jittering, reactions catching between them in a collective pool. Malik reached out, toying with Allal's hair, "That feels nice."

Allal shifted slightly, hands moving away and turning to look at Malik, who frowned in response, eyes falling shut. Quietly, he watched Malik scratch hands down his front, digging through the edges in gentle clawholds.

"Do what I do," Malik placed their minds closer together, thinning the distance and felt Allal's sluggish returning mental response. Slowly, and jarringly, Allal shoved his hands after Malik's, fingers clawing at his body and leaving impressions along Malik's. Opening his eyes with a flicker of lashes, Malik smoothed his fingers out, tracing at Allal's hips, and shivered when Allal's hands mimicked his, stroking in the dip of the hip bone, and then curling along his sides. Malik swallowed a groan, blood sliding through his veins in a way that was abruptly all too clear. The wane and pulse of it something he felt keenly aware of.

He jerked his hand down, movement a bit too too desperate, and curled his translucent fingers through Allal's boxers. That time Allal hesitated- hand fidgeting, before finally drifting down to loosely grasp at his crotch.

"Under the pants," Malik chuckled under his breath, and felt Allal's thumb hook rather unsurely at his waistline, "Go on," Malik urged, every nerve felt like it was coiling in anticipation.

Hand slinking past beltline, slowly encroaching on the blood-warmed space below, Allal finally made a sound. A strange thing, little and spiky, like a burr in the throat.

Malik opened his eyes, looking at Allal who was staring back at him with widened eyes, teeth showing in the hint of a fearful snarl, entire body shaking like something had been shaken loose inside his ribcage. His face was stained, spattered with a flushed out red that prickled at Malik's cheeks, but his eyes were bright, nervous-

Frightened.

"Allal?" Malik pressed closer to Allal mentally, withdrawing his hands. There was only the barest of mental responses, but Allal immediately pulled his hands away, dropping them back on the bed, palms open by his head, "You okay there?" There was a tap at his mind, like Allal had flailed loosely and barely made contact. Kneeling next to Allal, Malik peered into his face, concern searing along his thoughts. Allal's gaze flicked away from Malik, settling on the ceiling, and the snarl opened out into something blatant.

"I'm-" Allal's fingers bunched, face twisting in confusion.

Malik could feel Allal's nails digging into his palms, and scooted back, "Take a deep breath," He instructed finally, and Allal paused, before obediently settling the breath inside his lungs. Malik could feel the oxygen soothing the wild heartbeat echoing in his chest, "Let it out, take another, slowly," He guided gently.

After a few breaths, Allal covered his face with his arms, coughing, and fingers becoming slack. The pain in Malik's palms seeped out to a dull ache.

"You're okay," Malik prompted softly.

"I'm okay," Allal responded, answer coming out a little jolted.

Laying down and curling next to Allal, Malik kept his hands tightly by his sides, before collecting his thoughts. Besides him Allal's body relaxed, relinquishing tension moment by moment.

"What," Malik accompanied the question with a gentle prod at Allal's mind, "Happened?"

Allal nudged back mentally, the response much surer and more prompt, "I don't know," He croaked, keeping his arms over his head.

"How do you feel?"

"Not good."

"Sick?" Malik probed, there was a vague mental shrug pitched in his direction, "Unhappy?" A terse nod, "Did you want to do that?" This time there was a vague nod, but the mental gesture was closer to a weak flail. Malik sighed, and Allal was suddenly tucked against him mentally, the edges of his thoughts quivering, "No, you're good," He soothed, and could feel Allal's mind settling, "Allal, do you _like_ it when I kiss you?" He asked the question a little awkwardly, and cleared his throat afterwards, as though it would make that less uncomfortable to ask.

The discomfort, after-all was secondary to the necessity of the question.

"Yes," Allal decided after a moment.

"Okay," Malik breathed out, "That's good."

"Are..." He dropped his arms to his sides, "Are you okay?"

Malik studied Allal's uncertain expression before answering, "I'm fine, I'm just trying to-" He squinted slightly, "Set boundaries."

"Don't kill people," Allal rolled his eyes, laughing shakily, "Don't eat the entire container of halva."

He shook his head in response, "Boundaries for me."

"Ah," Allal turned onto his side, narrowing his eyes at Malik. He nodded at Malik, "To avoid _this_?"

"To avoid hurting you," Malik clarified firmly, "Don't walk through you, don't say you don't care, don't..." He trailed off, eyes drifting to the side and down in thought, "Okay, you know how traffic lights work?"

"Obviously."

"Cool," Malik nodded, "In future, I'll ask you for a colour, and you can say red if you feel not good and want anything to stop, amber if you're not sure and green-"

"I get it," Allal rolled his eyes.

Malik flipped onto his back, shutting his eyes, "You can also say those colours whenever you want, and I _promise_ they'll be listened to."

"Okay," Allal curled into his arm, a shiver cracking through his body, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Malik sighed, "You have every right to say no."

"I don't want to fail you," Allal muttered, tucking further into himself.

Turning to his side, Malik brushed at Allal's hair, "You didn't," Allal looked out, over his arm at Malik, blinking, "I don't want to fail you either, okay?"

* * *

"Come on, one more bite," Malik protested, nudging at Allal's mind, "Can we have one more bite?"

Allal continued to glare down at the plate, arms crossed over his chest. He looked at Malik with a deadpan expression, and leaned back in his seat, "Red," He stated firmly, almost petulantly.

"You can't _red_ food," Malik argued, and Allal raised an eyebrow in response. Throwing his hands in the air, Malik stalked towards the counter, "Fine, you don't have to eat it!"

Smugly, Allal pressed the plate away with a flick of his fingers, "I'll eat anything else, really."

With a reluctant spirit, Malik wandered back to the table, poking at the uneaten hummus, "You really hate this stuff huh."

"Well, I didn't know until just now," Allal shrugged, licking his teeth in displeasure, "It's all grainy and gross."

"Okay, okay, you really don't have to eat it," Malik rolled his eyes, "You're such a brat."

"I've heard that before," Laughing, Allal plucked the plate up, dumping it into the sink airily.

"Clean it-"

Allal looked back at Malik, annoyance tugging his mouth into a frown, "I guess I can't red chores."

"You could," Malik snorted, "But I don't think extreme dislike is the same thing as feeling bad."

"I guess it does cheapen the whole point of it," Allal sighed, trotting back towards the sink and grabbing the washcloth with a disgusted growl. There was a faint tickle at the edge of Malik's awareness, and he peered at Allal, "I wanted to talk to Rishid before Isis was home."

A sharp, unpleasant feeling stepped through Malik, "You never want to talk to Rishid."

"Yeah, well," Allal scratched at a stain on the plate with his fingernail, "I wanted to talk to him in private."

The unpleasant feeling came back, flickering in Malik's stomach like a cold coil of dread, "I can go off somewhere."

"I know you hate it."

"I know you know," Malik ran his hand through his hair, the almost-sensation picking at his nerves, "What did you want to talk to Rishid about?"

As usual, Allal replied without even a notion of deceit - or tact, "You, mostly."

Malik frowned, eyes narrowing, "You aren't going to yell at him."

"Probably not," Allal set the plate aside, almost fumbling the slippery dish. Malik could feel the slide of it, and the way Allal caught it quickly, "I'm not planning on yelling at him."

"Good to hear," Malik folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the countertop whilst Allal shook his hands out, "Good luck with, uh, whatever."

* * *

Allal practically slammed into Malik's mind, scrabbling hotly at him. The sensation was needle-precise, and abruptly everywhere, like teeth snapping at random. It had been some time since Malik had left Allal to his conversation with Rishid, and the sudden urgent, almost feral feeling clinging at him had him darting towards the elastic feeling of the sensory leash. It clicked into place, setting his teeth on urge as the kitchen flowed into existence around him.

Holding himself so tauntly, Malik thought he might snap from the slightest touch, Allal had Rishid backed into a corner, a knife clutched in his fingers. Teeth bared, lip curled back so strongly Malik's mouth felt sore. Despite the aggressive posture, Allal's mind was still dragging at Malik's, and then unexpectedly Allal caught on something and swivelled them round. For the first time, Allal adjudicated the switch and controlled the transition.

"Fuck!" Malik didn't have much time to be surprised, as Allal practically flung him into the body. Jarred Malik almost dropped the knife with a yipe, but quickly fumbled it onto the nearby counter.

Rishid cocked his head, and Allal darted for the nearest wall, throwing himself through it.

"What happened?" Malik stared down at his hands, quickly checking for injuries. He tried to grab at Allal's mind, but there was no response; it was limp and pliant under the touch of his thoughts, "Rishid?" He looked up at his brother, "What did you do?"

"I have to tell Isis about this, I'm sorry," Rishid straightened.

He scraped at Allal, but there was still a resounding silence, "Rishid, what just happened?" Malik stuttered out, "Allal isn't responding - someone fill me in."

"I was going to tell Isis, he grabbed the knife to stop me," Rishid nodded at the counter, and Malik looked down at the knife. He had the strangest flashback of Bakura explaining the difference between a cleaving knife, machete and billhook.

"Why would you- Of course he tried to stop- why- he's startled," Malik could feel his words hissing and spitting in his throat, completely incapable of reasoning them into sentences, "Rishid - what happened?"

"Malik," Rishid took a wary step towards Malik, hands held high and full of good intentions, "He's seduced you into giving him physical control."

"Seduced?" Malik spluttered, "He has _not_ seduced me."

Rishid's face relaxed, "Oh thank god."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Malik had half a mind to snatch up the knife himself, but instead glared at his brother, "I initiated everything," Rishid's face fell, "I will tell Isis on my terms, hell- on my and Allal's terms."

"Malik, you _can't_ ," Rishid sounded strangled, and Malik shoved at Allal's mind again. Only the barest of responses, and Malik snapped back to focusing on Rishid, "He doesn't have a body."

"Yes he does," He gestured at himself, "This is ours."

"He doesn't have a body of his _own_ ," Rishid took another step forward and Malik took an answering one back, one hand gripping at the counter.

"That didn't seem to matter to you when Bakura and I were experimenting."

"That was different."

"Yeah," Malik growled hotly, words snarling up through his chest, "Who knows what kind of agreement he had with Ryou, or if Ryou was there, or what I did- why the hell do you think I don't _talk_ to Ryou?" He took another step back, "At least I know where I stand here."

"Malik, you're trying to have a relationship with yourself," Rishid spoke soothingly, and irritation flagged in Malik, snapping alert.

"So I'm basically masturbating, only it's complicated because somehow I'm negotiating consent with myself!"

"This isn't healthy-"

Malik stared Rishid down, "Why?" He asked firmly, folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm going to have to tell Isis now," Rishid took a step towards the door, and Malik paralleled the step.

"You didn't answer me," Malik clicked his tongue, "Rishid, if you go over my head and tell Isis, I'm gone. I'm not staying if you can't respect that's up to me."

Rishid startled, "You can't-"

"Oh believe me, I can," He shifted his weight to his other foot, "I'm Clan Leader; I'm hardly destitute. Not to mention I have a rather solid grasp on the blackmarket, and have had first-class training in petty theft straight from the Thief-King. I am well-equipped to cope on my own. I am _more_ than capable," He looked to the side, breathing out delicately, "I don't want to - I love you - but you have to promise me to leave this well alone."

"Your judgment-"

"Is fine, thank you for asking," Malik frowned, anger still bubbling in his blood, "Rishid, promise me."

"Malik, I disagree-"

"Noted," Malik's expression softened, more from force of will, "We can discuss your disagreements when you stop treating me like a child."

"Malik-" Rishid cut off, looking between Malik and the door. Finally he slumped, moving away from the door and gesturing at the table, "We discuss this now."

Nodding, Malik took his spot, refolding his arms over his chest when seated, "What's concerning you?" He asked seriously.

"Your violent alter-ego is attempting to seize control of you," Rishid answered just as seriously.

Malik leaned back in his spot, tilting his head at Rishid, "He switched us, you know?" Rishid blinked and Malik continued, "Back then, when he had the knife. He switched us out - he's actually never done that before, I wasn't sure if he could - either way, he didn't know how to handle a situation that _you_ started, at least not without resorting to violence," Malik leaned forward, hands clasping in front of him on the table, "So he got me," He smirked, eying Rishid, "So you tell me, what's concerning you?"

* * *

"You okay?" Malik brushed at Allal's mind, mimicking the movement by skimming a hand through his arm. Settling on the bed, Malik squirmed under the sheets and continued to stare hopefully at Allal's back. The tight curl of Allal was faced away from him, shoulders set firmly, and arms crossed, "Allal, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Allal croaked finally, mind wriggling away from Malik's.

He shifted in close to Allal, pressing his face into his back, "You're okay."

"I'm _really_ sorry," Allal whined, voice catching, "I panicked-"

"I know," Malik soothed.

"I just- I didn't want to hurt him, I just didn't know how to stop him."

"I know, it's okay, you're okay."

A line of movement went through Allal's back, and Malik heard a swallow, the heavy clunking sound before Allal took a deep breath, "Is..." A hopeless pause, that Malik filled by nestling closer to Allal, making low, soft noises of encouragement, "What did Isis say?"

"Nothing," Malik pulled away, thinking, "At least, Rishid hasn't told her."

An eager quiet welled up, and Allal peered round his shoulder, "You stopped him?"

"I did," Malik reassured.

This time, Allal rolled fully, facing Malik, mouth slack with awe, "How?"

"I made a few things clear to him, that's all," Malik leaned forward, brushing his nose by and through Allal's, laughing under his breath, "Why did you tell him about this of all things?"

"Seemed healthier," Allal rolled his eyes, a snarl flittering to his mouth, "I fucked that up."

"A little," Malik shook his head, astounded, "You're fine. Go to sleep," He leaned in, and then stopped, "Colour?"

Allal pressed himself against Malik, hissing in irritation, "Green, green, fucking green," And Malik laughed into his mouth, the sound licking at the corners of the room.

* * *

Allal had his arms most of the way into the large koi tank, whilst Malik simply looked down into the flickering, watery shapes, "See anything you like?" He called out to Isis, mentally tapping at Allal, who tapped back almost immediately, his reflection in the water smirking.

"Not the price tag," Isis flipped through the catalogue, "These are going to be your fish anyway. It's up to you."

"That one," Allal pointed a zip-line of sooty black, "I'll think of a name later, but we need that one. With the white stripe down his back."

"Is that a kumonryu?" Malik murmured, squinting after the fish.

"Kawarimono, Hageshiro pattern," Allal replied, pointing after the fish, "Asewd," He decided abruptly.

 _Black_ , _of course_ , Malik sighed, rolling his eyes lightly, when Allal twisted round, staring at him with a startled expression.

"What?" He whispered under his breath, shifting under the strange look in Allal's eyes.

"I think I love you," Allal shuddered, pulling a face, "Great," With that sarcastic remark, Allal turned back to the tank, "Oh that one too, the yamatonishiki."

* * *

"So what are their names?" Malik asked, leaning over the pond to stare at the new fish. They seemed a fraction larger than the others, but nothing Malik was particularly worried about. Still, Allal had noticed it immediately, and expressed deep concerns about it.

"Alezl and Melwenh," Allal dipped his hand into the water, opening it to let a piece of grapefruit drift through the water. A moment later Qetam had nipped it up.

"What?" Malik jerked his head round to stare at Allal, "Alezl?"

"Yeah, shadow - seemed appropriate," Malik squinted, "Melwenh is colourful, so I named her colourful," Allal withdrew his hand slowly, picking up several more chunks of fruit and dropping them into the water with light splashes, "They've settled to the water quickly, that's great."

"Next time," Malik shook his head, "I'm naming them."

"Oh, koi carp can live for over a century, so that'll be awhile," Allal answered airily, and then looked down into the pond, "But probably not in a tank like this. I think we could expect forty years with them," He paused, watching Resdet drift by, before lowering his hand into the water, "It's funny because the book said koi won't eat smaller koi, normally. I don't understand why Mesherq ate Alelyel," He hummed, "Or tried to."

"Fish are complicated, I guess," Malik pressed against Allal, "You've never really talked about Alelyel - it's been more than a month, thinking about it."

"I didn't talk about Mesherq either," Allal countered, leaning into Malik.

"You liked Alelyel better, but point taken," Malik sighed, "Why is it you don't talk about it?"

There was a gentle shrug against his thoughts, "We don't really deal with our problems like that," Allal stretched his fingers out under the water, "Talking about things doesn't make us feel better. The fact you're here is comforting," He plucked his hand out of the water, brushing his dripping fingers through Malik's hair, ran them at the curve of Malik's neck, "You didn't force me to talk about it, you just helped."

"We don't always understand each other," Malik countered, shifting under the non-touch, "Talking is good for that."

"Yeah, but we're better at it," Allal flicked at Malik's mind affectionately, "Thank you for Alezl and Melwenh."

"You're welcome," Malik waited, opening his mouth and feeling the question flutter at the back of his head. It spilled out, cautiously, "Did you mean it? Earlier?"

Allal cocked his head, "Earlier?"

"You said I love you."

"I said I think I love you," Allal corrected, before moving his hand back into the water, "But yeah, I guess it amounts to the same thing."

"Is that normal?"

"To love yourself?"

Allal laughed, hand moving in the water enough to startle Alezl and Melwenh. The other Koi, accustomed to this, swam by idly, "Malik," He looked at Malik, eyes shining with amusement, "We haven't been the same person in a very, very long time."

* * *

They curled up, minds circling vaguely through their bodies until they finally settled, Malik inside the body and Allal curled up next to him, positions mirroring each other. With a lazy yawn, Malik stretched his neck slightly and Allal opened his eyes, gazing at Malik through his eyelashes, "Night," Allal suggested, showing his teeth.

"Don't you even think of going to sleep," Malik protested, pummelling his hands at Allal's front. His fists dipped into Allal's chest, "I'm not tired; you have to keep me company."

"But that's boring," Allal snorted, mind pressing against Malik's.

"Well, what do you want to talk about?" Malik rolled his eyes, "How can I entertain you? Let me guess? Fish?"

"We should talk about sex," Allal replied, no-nonsense, but not one iota of seriousness either. It was although he was remarking on the flavour of dinner, or commenting on the quality of Rayh's sumi.

"What?" Malik shifted, a blush burning itself onto his face. He dug his fingers into the mattress in alarm.

"Or fish?" Allal shut his eyes, before opening one to watch Malik sit up, "What?"

"You can't-" Malik stopped, took a breath and continued, voice smoother but tense as a coiled spring, "Where did that come from?"

"The fish? Most of those are from Kaiba Corpora-"

"No, the sex thing," Malik's voice lowered to a hiss, and he shoved at Allal's mind, until Allal had opened both eyes, sitting up and scruffing at his hair, "Where on earth did that come from?"

"Well, you," Allal's eyes narrowed, flicking up to the ceiling in thought, "We had that morning where you-"

"I remember."

"I was thinking we should revisit the subject."

Malik settled slightly, "Okay, what did you want to discuss?"

"Malik," Allal huffed under his breath, "I said _talk_ , but what I _meant_ was we should have sex," He rolled his eyes, snorting, "It's not hard," He paused, and then lit up, "Hey that's kind of funny, because-"

"I get it," Malik snapped, flopping back on the bed, "I get the joke," Lazily, Allal flopped back onto the bed after him, rolling in close and dropping a hand insistently at the hem of Malik's shirt, "What?" Allal tugged at Malik's thoughts, pulling them to focus on him.

"If you give me your body," Allal declared, voice low and dangerous. It flickered a razor shot to Malik's nerves; made each one spark and splutter. There was a rising warning, manipulative and dark in the voice, "I can make everything better," He paused, tone lifting, taking on a cautious quality, "Colour?"

"Okay, green, green," Malik pulled their thoughts round, yanking Allal's mind into the body behind him, projection dissolving at the edges. Allal leaned over Malik; the pin empty of force, all of Allal's weight falling on the bed, and Malik arched up, entire body involved in a concerted effort to get the impression, thought of kissing out into the open. Then just as surely, Malik fell back as Allal ran a hand from his throat to between his legs - the slightest scratch at the sternum, tracing the hollows of Malik's ribs and hip bones.

He moaned, the sound scraping at the air and Allal squeezed his eyes shut, bracing hand gripping the sheet, and the other running curiously across his chest, listening to the guiding groans from Malik.

"What do you want, Malik?" He asked, the question silky, but when Malik looked up at him, Allal's eyes were familiar and bright in the darkness.

"You," The word climbed out of Malik before he could help it, mind shoving against Allal's, clinging and scratching for contact.

"Ah - but more immediately?" Allal palmed at his erection, growling in shared pleasure. It clung between them, binding them together.

Malik felt Allal's mind flicker back at him, edges delineating against each other, differences lighting up like nerves and similarities curving together like blood in water, "Touch me- you?" Malik faltered, distracted by the semantics, whilst Allal toyed with the waistband of their underwear, "Us. Just touch us."

He could feel each of Allal's fingers curl impatiently around their cock, furling loosely and thumbing at their head. The touch was curious, but not as experimental as Malik had expected, and he squinted up at Allal, breathing hard and arthymically to Allal's pants. The feeling of inhale and exhale pressed against each other was heady, dizzying, and he had to hold his breath to begin clearing his thoughts.

"You've been practicing?" Malik blurted it out, a snarling sough of pleasure gathering quietly in the base of their body. Allal groaned, distractedly, head dropping, "You _have_ ," Malik decided, squirming.

"Shut up," Allal grimaced, biting at his lip. The pain barely registered in Malik's mind, swallowed up as Allal's movements became jagged, the arm keeping him up shaking and shivering. Malik could feel the tension in his own arms, legs flexing instinctively, and back arching until Allal and he were half-tangled in each other.

Orgasm came, less of an afterthought and more a punctuation to the feeling, thoughts jolting like something sharp had been passed through the skull. The same sharpness picking at the nerves and playing them one by one in a flash of sound. It came more from Malik's mouth than Allal's, but it hardly mattered. Their voices coiled together - scarcely different.

Allal collapsed into the bed, fully intersecting Malik's body, and gasping into the sheets.

Malik could feel distress in every judder of Allal's mind, the hapless way he tried to crawl away from Malik, and with a mental coherency he wasn't convinced he had, half-rolled out of Allal. Exhausted, he lay on his back, eying the ceiling and puzzling the sticky sensation on his clean hands.

His voice was clear, but his mind shook trying to put the word together.

"What do you want?"

Allal coughed, turning on his side with a groan that signalled it had taken far too much effort, "Sleep," He whined, voice trailing off.

"Allal," Malik laughed, and it caught in his throat.

"You," Allal corrected, curling his arms, "G' Night."

"You're lucky," Malik yawned, sleep picking at his own mind, "You're lucky I love you."

He heard it, vaguely, muttered with a mixture of appreciation and disdain that plucked somewhere at Malik's heart strings, "Yeah, I am."

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case I wasn't clear enough - and it was pretty hard not to outright infodump - but in **Ateb' Men Alezl** I decided to explain Yami Malik from a medical-psychiatric perspective. It turned out to be pretty complicated, so I cracked out the ol' **Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition** and went to town.
> 
> I ended up diagnosing Malik with [**OSDD** or Other Specified Dissociative Disorder](http://www.dissociative-identity-disorder.net/wiki/Other_specified_dissociative_disorder), labelling Yami Malik as an elaborate Emotional Part (EP), and Malik as an Apparently Normal Part (ANP). There also exists an Observing Emotional Part (OEP) as there is in normal psyches, as well as ones featuring a dissociative disorder.
> 
> Yami Malik's formation is a mixture of trauma from the ritual, as well as a gamuck of feelings of abandonment associated with Rishid's failure to stop the ritual. As an EP, he lacks neural support in the same way an ANP does, and is essentially a personality buoyed by a chemical reaction. This makes him hyper-reactive, especially to stress hormones include norepinephrine (and also shadow magic, logically). 
> 
> He is further codified as a protector-fight type alter, who are hyper defensive to any perceived threat and often cause damage to their system. He is low-development as well, which is a hallmark of even elaborate EP. He demonstrates the ability to discern emotions that need to be kept separate from Malik, as well as a capacity to enact this decision.
> 
> This fic is intended to show Malik assigned neural support to Yami Malik sub-consciously, therefore shifting him from EP to ANP to handle the more complicated personality he develops and demonstrates.


End file.
